Morning in the Labyrinth.


Yavin Morgenthau strode quietly through the corridors of the Labyrinth, his mottled orange sweater standing out against the obsidian black floors and walls. Blue torch flames threw a sinister light on his otherwise complacent countenance. 

He slowed his pace on approaching an unmarked door, before where a dark robed Unspeakable stood guard - she stepped aside to let him through without a word.


The room was not so different from the rest of the Labyrinth in terms of aesthetic. A thin and translucent wall bisected the space, only visible for its subtle blue glow. On the other side of it was Nicholas Atkinson's prison; his home for this past four months. A single bed against the wall, a wooden stool, table, a plain divider for his toilet and sink.

Two aquarium tanks occupied Yavin's end of room, one on each side. They contained a pair of encephala for the purpose of detecting any mind magic performed by their prisoner.

This is how Atkinson's transgression[1] had been caught last week.

Yavin smiled his greetings at the tentacled brains as he walked past them to take his seat on a stool just before the barrier.

"Nicholas," he began. "I hear you've been, hm, been quite sneaky lately. I hope you're finding the, ah, the helmet not too uncomfortable?"

They hadn't wanted to waste an Infrangible Helmet on Atkinson, having expected the encephala to be deterrent enough, but Nick had proven them wrong.

And they can't afford to be wrong again.

1.	29th March - In My Dreams, Shadows Beckon, Whispering Warnings.

Nicholas Atkinson, Unspeakable

Nicholas sat on his narrow bed, back and head leant against the hard wall, the Infrangible Helmet resting awkwardly on his head, looking much less put together than he cared to in the spare Unspeakable robes they had forced him to wear instead of his own belongings. Robes that hung slightly loose on him was one thing, but the helmet…the damn thing was obnoxious during the day, and damn near maddening to try and sleep with on. He had known the risk when he reached out, knew that the stupid little brains by his cell would immediately pick up on what he was doing but, knowing the character of some of the people Cassie might have to deal with, he felt it had been worth it, even just to try.

Having been around Cassiopeia since she was a baby, Nicholas had witnessed Lawrence train her to close her mind, watched him test her abilities and strength. He had even helped a time or two over the years, doing his best to weasel his way into her thoughts at various times of day. For the most part he found her remarkably guarded whenever he had reached out during the day, which was precisely why, for his one shot at getting through to her now, he purposely chose to wait until night. Perhaps if she was sleeping he’d have an easier time sending his message along.

The results had been somewhat surprising. He knew Cassiopeia was probably very much still in the throes of grief over her parents, but the nightmare he stepped into as he entered her mind looked hellish. It took everything in him not to spend his precious time comforting her and instead pushing on to send his warning not to trust anyone who came looking for information. He knew there wasn’t much she had to give them anyway, he had been privy to just how sheltered Lawrence and Saoirse raised their daughter, but the thought of them closing in on his Little Star and trying to use her for whatever reason was worse than the ridiculous helmet sat atop his head.

Nicholas barely looked over as Yavin entered.

“It’s like a bloody spa day with this thing on.” He said, his voice thick with sarcasm as he reached up and gave the helmet a knock with his knuckles.

He smiled at the quip and crossed his lanky legs, eyes gleaming behind his glasses.

Prior to all this Yavin had somewhat liked Nicholas Atkinson - a highly skilled Unspeakable who knew his craft and with whom one could hold a tolerable conversation. His association with the Collins was unfortunate, now more than ever.

"There's been some, ah, some discussion about who you could have possibly reached out to..." he began as he brought out his smoking pipe. "Your CAWW handler? A possibility. If you, hm, if you have one."

It was harder than pulling teeth, getting useful information out of Atkinson. There was no possibility of breaking into his mind either - an advanced Occlumens would have the important stuff surrounded by a mental trap of some sort. Which left them with the quaint and old-fashioned approach of a regular interrogation.

Only a handful of Unspeakables knew Atkinson was down here, however, so this little interview was something of a rarity.

"But you're not so, hm, so sanguine as to be expecting a rescue." Yavin continued, pausing only to light the pipe. "And the death of your friends, well, that's telling enough to those watching."

He breathed out a cloud of smoke and shook his head at the other wizard. "There's always... what's her, hm, her name, now? Cassiopeia? What do you think?" Yavin lifted his eyebrows. "Picking up after mommy and daddy?"

Nicholas Atkinson, Unspeakable

Nickie chuckled, but in an unamused way, shaking his head as Yavin mentioned CAWW and the Collins trio one right after the other. He was really trying to play every card he had at the moment to try and get him to give any sort of inkling as to who he had reached out to. He wasn’t about to tell him it was Cassiopeia, it would only do more harm than good. The whole point had been to warn her against trusting people who came asking questions, not to send the Department of Mysteries to her doorstep.

He didn’t see it as “cleaning up” after Lawrence and Saoirse, although what had transpired that evening had been a difficult thing to accept. He wished things had happened differently, that his friends were still alive and well, that he didn’t need to worry about Cassie. Things had been tumultuous leading up to it all, but now was not the time to commiserate about things he wished he could have done differently.

“I’m not a dog in need of a master, Yavin. Though we all know you like to keep your pet on a rather tight leash. Where is the boy anyway? Running your little errands as usual?” He shot back flatly. It was a shame, he thought Yavin, having known him for some time, would have had some ability to give him the benefit of the doubt in this whole scenario…that clearly was not the case.

A tight leash. That was probably what it looked like - and it wasn't unusual for someone to bring up Virgil as a way of getting on his nerves. As though Virgil were a chink in his armor or a weakness to exploit. Merlin knew what the kid was getting up to half of the time these days.

But that was fine. It was a useful impression.

"I, uh, I wasn't going to say but seeing as how you have no recourse..." Yavin tapped his head to indicate Nick's helmet. "There's no point in, hm, in beating around the bush. You wouldn't call Cassiopeia a little errand, though, now would you?"

He pulled from his pipe, another cloud of fragrant tobacco. "And he, ah, he isn't really a boy. He's a man. You know what men are like."

Now it was time to see whether or not the witch was a chink in Atkinson's armor. Virgil's reputation for getting into trousers and under skirts was also a useful impression, albeit a true one. The implication was not subtle - Yavin didn't see what he had to gain from being subtle.

"Don't worry, Uncle Nickie..." he added, running his thumb along the side of his smoking pipe. "I'm sure he, hm, he's being a perfect gentleman."

Nicholas Atkinson, Unspeakable

A subtle flicker of rage flashed through Nickie’s eyes for the briefest of moments. He wouldn’t fucking dare, would he? The thought of that rat, that mousey blonde haired rat schmoozing his way into Cassie’s life, and all for what? To fulfill some mission bestowed upon him by Yavin. They were sick, the lot of them. He knew their antics, but for them to toy with Cassiopeia? His Little Star? That was nauseating to thinking of.

Nickie took a silent breath, calming the furious storm that was stirring within him, reminding himself that winning over his Little Star would be no easy feat, not only had he managed to warn her, but he vividly remembered a much smaller, sassier Cassiopeia ranting on about the odious little wizard she had to share classes with. She had barely tolerated Virgil then from what she told him, what were the odds he had changed much since then.

“Poor kid. She’ll give him a run for his money.” He said calmly, even though he wanted to tell Yavin that if Virgil even thought of putting one of his grubby little hands on Cassiopeia that he wouldn’t hesitate to remove them from his person.

Atkinson's reaction was disappointing.

He detected anger there, yes, but it was very controlled. Maybe too controlled. Would it be too much to ask Virgil to get intimate with the Collins girl? But that might take more time than they had to spare. Lies will have to do for now.

"Hm, well..." Yavin shrugged as he put out his pipe. "You know as, ah, as well as I do that he loves a challenge."

The smoking pipe went back into his pocket. "Of course I, uh, I didn't come here to gossip about our lustful youths."

As interesting as he found it to poke and prod at their prisoner, he wasn't a cat looking to play with its food. Yavin required information.

"What can you tell me about this, ah, this unicorn blood[1] business?" he smiled mildly at Nicholas. "Or are you going to, hah, to claim you didn't know your friends were selling?"

1.	17th March - Bloody Bites and Broken Hearts

Nicholas Atkinson, Unspeakable

Nicholas’s brow furrowed.

“The unicorn blood? You might want to double check those records of yours Yavin. It was for work, some project you gave them.” He said in a tone that gave off the vibe that he was trying to remind Yavin of a conversation that supposedly happened long ago.

Merlin, had the man hit his head?

Then a thought occurred to him. Lawrence had told him it was a work project, told him it was just the usual business for the most part. Nickie hadn’t questioned it at the time, but then again, he hadn’t known about their connections to CAWW until much later, and when they had let him in on their plans it had been so surprising that unicorn blood had been the last thing on his mind. His once dear friends had been strategic in what they let him know and what they had kept close to their chest. What Saoirse and Lawrence had gotten into was dark dark territory.

He raised his eyebrows at the response, arched pointedly above gleaming spectacles. A project.

Yavin said nothing at first - allowing time for Nicholas to reach a conclusion. It would be most uncharacteristic of him to inquire after something with which he had tasked the Collins. Ergo, he hadn't. Atkinson might be lying of course. The problem with Unspeakables was that they were all generally good at lying.

"Lawrence and Saoirse were, uh, were selling the stuff to vampires," he clarified, watching the other wizard for a reaction. "Not a meager sale, their last. And they failed to, hah, to deliver."

With a little sigh, he drummed an impatient rhythm against his knee. "Wasn't very, ah, very nice of them to leave that debt to their little girl, hm? Vampires have, uh, they have long memories."

Nickie’s insides twisted, anger and rage threatening to slip through his calm and collected facade. What the fuck had Lawrence and Saoirse been thinking?! Their horrible actions had been mostly their own. The fact that they’d fallen so far into their delusional thinking that they hadn’t considered if it’d be putting Cassiopeia at risk was baffling. He had known that the night everything went down, in fact, it had been one of the reasons Nickie had hollered at them to try and get them to see the gravity of the situation.

“I take it the ministry won’t be doing anything to protect her…it’s a shame she’ll have to face the consequences of actions that were not her own.” he said flatly, knowing the answer, knowing it'd mean his Little Star was probably dealing with a nightmare in her real life, not just in the dream he had stepped into while she slept.

There was only so much blood you can squeeze out of a man - or if Atkinson truly didn't know anything, so much water you can squeeze out of a rock. The older wizard stood, hands in pockets, and stepped closer to the barrier between them as he fixed Nicholas with a dry smile.

He would not correct the assumption that the Ministry was involved.

"Don't, ah, don't worry..." Yavin spoke softly. "We won't let any, ah, any real harm come to Miss Collins. Not while there's still, hm, still information to get out of her."

There seemed little point in further antagonising their prisoner, who hadn't yet risen to bait. For now all they could do was wait and see what else Virgil could get out of the witch.

Yavin had bigger fish to try. He made to turn away and leave, and then stopped. "The cabin," he looked back at Atkinson, spectacles gleaming in the low light. "You've, ah, you've no idea where their lovely little cabin is?"

Nickie narrowed his eyes at Yavin as he tried to bait him into reacting to the idea that some harm would come to Cassie, but they’d keep anything truly awful from happening to her. Bastards, how could they be so dismissive and manipulative of her all at the same time. He knew Yavin wanted a reaction though, so that's precisely what he didn’t give him.

“Cabin?” Nickie echoed, faking ignorance. He knew everything about the cabin. Where it was, how to get there, the color of the throw pillows on the couches. He knew how Lawrence had purchased the piece of muggle property using muggle money in order to keep it all off the magical radar, which Nickie had once laughed at and teased his former friend for being too paranoid. Now he understood why they wanted a place they could go without anyone knowing exactly where they had disappeared to. He couldn’t even count how many summers he had spent there, watching his Little Star learn to swim in the lake on the property, spending lazy nights on the porch with a scotch while Cassie caught fireflies and fairies. He knew….but he didn’t trust Yavin enough to tell him that.

“They never mentioned a cabin.” He said matter of factly with a little shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Shame…” his mouth twitched into an amused smile. “I, ah, I guess we’ll have to see what my pet turns out.”

Yavin was certain that, should Virgil ask whether or not Uncle Nickie had joined their cabin excursions, the response would be a positive one. But there was no point in finding that out either - Atkinson was an excellent Occlumens, capable of destroying information should his barriers be breached.

The older wizard fixed him with a final look, adjusted his spectacles and moved to leave.

“Until next time, Nickie,” he raised his hand in farewell. “Dream, hm. Dream soundly.”

There would be no releasing the Unspeakable. Not until they found that cabin and, consequently, the Collins’ notebooks.

Not until the truth came out.