“She’d put it away after her father’s death and had all but forgotten about it. It was you that brought it back into her memory. But some subconscious part of her knew it was dangerous.”
So she slipped it into my saddlebag.
That meant Erin was still fighting. That meant Billi still had an ally in this battle. She just needed to get Erin to join in. Anytime right now would be good. She needed Reggie to lose control.
Good thing she was an eighteen-year-old girl. Antagonising people older than herself was her superpower. “And now you want to move your withered, crooked soul into Ivan? I can imagine it’s a dream come true. To live as a prince.”
“I watched him at the party and realised my best chance had arrived. So I took control of Erin, while she was sleeping, and went and visited your boyfriend nice and early, along with a few of my friends.”
“Those asakku demons. That’s the only way you could have beaten Ivan. You’re luckier than you know. Now where is he?”
“You’ll find out soon enough, Billi,” said Reggie with more than a little glee. “He’s a stubborn fellow but I think with you present I might well persuade him to obey me. That or watch you suffer in ways yet unimaginable, and imaginative.”
“You really are playing all the clichés out of the Bond villain handbook, aren’t you? Did you twirl your moustache, back in the day? You sound like a moustache-twirler. Not particularly scary and all together second-rate.” Billi laughed. “Lawrence was right about you. He said you were a failure from the beginning. That you were a lost cause from the start with no idea of the powers you were dealing with. Not his finest student. Not by a long shot.”
“That is a lie! I was his best! I achieved things no-one else in the order could even imagine! I reached out to the Anunnaki! I and I alone! Who amongst them could summon the asakku? Tell me that?”
“Oh. Them. If that’s the best you could manage I’m not surprised the Ouroboros Society kicked you out. Seriously. I’ve had more trouble at a children’s tea party.”
She could almost hear him grinding his teeth. Now for the coup de grace.
“Face it, Reggie. You’re nothing without Erin and soon you’ll be nothing at all. She’s fought against you when she was little and day-by-day she’s grown stronger. She draws on something you could never have, nor understand. She is beloved, Reginald. You even remember what that means?”
“Love? You dabble in the oldest cliché there is.”
“The heart tells no lies. Erin knows she’s going to win. Your time is coming to an end.” Billi pulled the ties against the cracked corner of the scraper, jerking it back and forth to force even a small tear through the plastic. “You can’t beat Erin. Not with all her friends behind her, not with all those people who love her. You want her to feel weak because you’re scared of her. And that’s the truth. Erin will beat you.”
Reginald screamed as the car swerved wildly. It rocked as it jumped over a verge and Billi was slammed against the boot lid, dropping the scraper.
“Billi! Help me!” screamed Erin.
She was trying to take back control!
“The brakes! Hit the brakes!” Billi yelled as the car swerved again and she slid face first against the back wall.
But the swerves were getting more violent and the car tilted sideways so the car was balanced on its two left wheels. Billi gasped as she rolled against the side. It was tilting higher and higher…
Erin screamed as the car rolled over. Billi curled up into a ball as it rolled down a slope, being jolted out of her skin as it slammed side over side over and over again, faster and faster as the slope became steeper and the weight of the car added to its momentum. Billi covered her head with her arms, trying to brace but being thrown about like a rag doll in a tumble-drier. The tyres ruptured and the axles groaned and snapped. The car spun around as it slammed into something hard and immobile, a tree judging by the sound of branches snapping. It landed on its roof and continued sliding, upside-down. Billi jammed her hands against the bottom, now top, of the boot as it bumped and slid over uneven earth.
Erin screamed once more.
The car dropped.
It fell for a second then slammed down hard. Sparks burst in her eyes as Billi whacked her head against the inside of the boot lid.
But it wasn’t over. The car began to bob, and tilt.
Water seeped in, first a thin stream through the buckled cracks in the lid, then faster as it found more openings as it sank deeper. The tail-lights flickered, then went out. Billi snatched one last, big gasp as water flooded the boot.
CHAPTER 23
She couldn’t see. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.
The water was shockingly cold and the car settled upside-down with a bump. It creaked as it rocked back and forth, balanced on its crumpled roof.
Heart racing, breath running out and hands still bound, Billi had to move fast, and not panic. She struggled against the ties before forcing herself, and not easily, to accept she couldn’t break them. She needed to concentrate on one thing at a time. And just hold on. Her head pounded under the pressure of the rapidly diminishing air. She couldn’t help but let a few bubbles slip through. Then she locked down her lips.
The car had been badly smashed. The boot lid was buckled. She could just make out a faint midnight glow, moonlight through the water upon a silt bottom sown with long, gently waving kelp.
Kelp? The sting upon her eyes made something click. This was sea water. They were somewhere along the coast.
What was on the coast?
Worry about that another time. Get that boot lid open.
Billi braced her back against the top, and pushed down with her feet, trying to shove the twisted lid wide enough for her to swim through. The hinges groaned loudly. The boot lid was twisted out of its frame. It wasn’t keen on shifting.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on the one thing she had to do. Push! Push! Push!
Every muscle screamed as she tried to stretch out straight as a pole. But her legs shook. Her lungs were on fire. The boot lid creaked more as the hinges, reluctantly, gave an couple of centimetres. Only a couple. But that minute shift meant she was doing it. Success, freedom, life, was just another thirty centimetres away.
Push!
The car rocked. It tilted back and forth. It was tilting back now, pushing the boot lid closed…
The metal crunched together as the lid sealed itself back shut, for good.
That was her only chance and it was gone. She gave up. Battered, drugged and tied Billi despaired. The odds were too great. Stupid, random bad luck. The car in the water. Landing upside down. The way it settled. Too much bad luck and at some point you had to give up. Don’t fight it anymore. Let it be someone else’s problem.
Maybe her words had given Erin back control. Maybe Erin had beaten Reginald by herself. She didn’t need Billi. Who did, in the end?
Take a breath. You know you want to. Let the water and darkness fill you and be done with it. Just fade away and leave it all behind.
Is that how she wanted it to end?
That she’d be a sad tale around the Temple? The one they told with a shake of the head and resigned sigh? Another martyr for the cause. Another poor soldier fallen by the way in the Bataille Tenebreuse.
Did she want the bad guys to win?
Billi twisted around, her lungs aching but however many seconds she had left she would spend them fighting.
The impact had jarred the rear seats out of position. If she couldn’t get out through the boot she could get out through the front. Bubbles dribbled from her clenched teeth, her chest ached and if this didn’t work then it was over. She had to expel all her energy in this one last attempt. Hold nothing back. Give it everything.
She kicked. Back braced against the side of the boot she lashed out with her bound feet into the back of the seat. She whacked her toes hard, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t care if they broke as
long as they gave her an opening. She kicked again at the middle, single seat, feeling it buckle, an centimetre, a little more, with each hit.
Come on!
She was feeling dizzy now, lack of air, all her effort, the drugs. This needed to happen now. She pressed her soles against the back of the seat and pushed. Legs trembling, chest aching, wanting to scream, wanting to breathe, wanting to live, she pushed.
The seat gave way. The hinges, already broken by the crash, finally snapped and the rear of the seat opened up, giving her a small window-sized opening out into the car cabin.
The last of her air gone in a rush of bubbles, Billi wriggled through the gap. The car had landed on its roof, so the cabin had crumpled to half its size, shattering the windows. She sensed, rather than saw, the driver’s seat was empty. The buckled metal door-frame gave her the edge she needed and she dug the wrist ties into the steel and rubbed them furiously back and she ripped the ties apart. No time to worry about her feet she pulled herself through the cabin and out through the passenger door window.
Pale beams of moonlight undulated softly through the depths. There was the gentle push and pull of a current. The ground was silty and the only way was up. Kicking, paddling, Billi rushed for the surface.
She gasped as she broke out. The air tore through her ragged, aching throat and she started swimming for the bank.
She crawled the last few yards and collapsed amongst the reeds.
She lay there gasping, face in the sandy soil, soaked through and weary beyond exhaustion. All but broken by the effort. She shivered. The wind was cold, and salty. Billi curled up in a ball, holding onto her own heat. She needed to move. She just needed to rest. She needed someone to save her for once.
When? When was that ever going to happen? They all thought she could do it alone. Even Ivan. They were meant to be a team, they were meant to be a couple but had never really shared their pain. Both had wanted to be strong for the other and instead of opening up to each other they’d built shields. It wasn’t being weak, it was being honest. Sharing their doubts, their moments when they felt weak, overwhelmed, scared about what was ahead of them. That’s what they should have done but she was Billi SanGreal and he was Ivan Romanov. They had to be strong all the time.
Just this once she could do with being saved. Just this once.
Where was she? Seagulls shrieked. Everything was salty.
Billi sat up slowly. Her body was in no rush to get active. It protested angrily, sending warning signals up along her nerves, little spikes of pain to let her know moving was a bad idea and if she pushed any harder something would finally give in. Hey, this is your body speaking. Mess around anymore and I’m gonna shut down. Give it a rest, why don’t you?
Shut up, body. I’m in charge.
A minute rubbing a rough stone against the leg ties finally had herself free and Billi stood up, arms wrapped around herself and teeth chattering.
The car had ploughed a trench down a muddy verge off a country road lined with hedges and birches. The bank was steep and roughly ten metres above the rest of the landscape, a flat expanse of sandy islands covered in reeds made up of hundreds ofinlets making their way towards the sea, which, judging by a quick glance at the stars, had to be the North Sea. Moonlight shone upon the white breakers a few kilometres to her right and there was the faint rustle of the surge along a beach. The car had slid down and fallen into one of the deeper inlets. Given the height of the verge this entire area would be underwater at high tide. If the crash had happened then she would have surely drowned. It didn’t feel like it, but she’d been lucky.
So Erin had taken her to the east of England, but how long had Billi been unconcious? She could be anywhere from Suffolk to Northumbria.
Erin was long gone. A path of broken and flattened reeds led into the marshland, but after a few metres Billi couldn’t make sense of the trail. Aragorn she wasn’t. She was a city girl through and through.
God, she was freezing.
The raised country road wound through the marshland, but there were no lights anywhere that would mark a village or hamlet where she might get shelter, get help.
But what was that? A branch off the road heading towards…
… a cottage, sitting on one of the islands. The slate roof tiles glistened and she could make out a small garden facing toward the sea, surrounded by a dry-stone wall. No lights and no vehicle in the drive.
Bare-footed and shivering, Billi headed towards the building.
She walked along in a daze, hardly aware of how much colder she was getting and how much harder each step was becoming. She moved like a robot, a rusty machine with a single purpose, to get to that cottage. She would lose sight of it as she waded through the taller reeds or tumbled down, and then across one of the streams. At first she’d tried to jump them but before long she’d given up on the extra effort and just splashed across. It’s not as if she could get any wetter.
She reached the low wall and didn’t even bother with the gate but just climbed over. There was a fibre-glass sea kayak and some wrought iron garden furniture.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Billi banged on the back door. “Hello?”
The curtains were open, there was no light. She peered through the window into a rustic-style kitchen. Nothing was out. No plates, cups, pots or pans. Whoever owned it had packed everything away at the end of the summer holidays.
She picked up a loose stone off the wall and bashed it into the door’s glazed panel. It easily shattered and Billi carefully reached through, and unlocked the door from the inside.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Breaking and entering. As if that matters more than dying of hypothermia.
A holiday let. It had to be. Somewhere for the family to get away during the summer. The coast was dotted with them.
A search of the cupboards brought forth a bounty of biscuits, breakfast cereal and tins of soup. She shoved the cornflakes into her mouth as she turned on the hob. Riffling through the drawers she found the can opener. A minute later she’d poured two tins of chicken broth into the saucepan.
She was still cold, she was still soaked through. Leaving the soup bubbling, she explored. The cottage was just a few rooms. The kitchen, a small sitting room facing the front, and then a bathroom and bedroom. She swung open the cupboard and threw the clothes over the bed. Jeans, tops, plenty of sweaters and even a decent sailor’s jacket. The owners fancied themselves as sea-folk. Riffling through the drawers she found some clean underwear and thick hiking socks.
Hope flickered in her heart. Billi stripped off and had the hottest shower of her life.
***
“Faustus?”
“Billi? Where the hell are you?”
Where? Sitting on a sofa, dressed in double layers under a duvet with a scolding hot bowl of soup on my lap.
She’d almost put her head down on the bed, but if she’d done that she’d have slept on till next week. So she’d found the land-line and a bunch of brochures on a coffee table.
Where indeed?
“I was with Erin, I mean Reggie. His soul is in her body. You were right about the ritual. He’s taken control of her and intends to kill her so he can transfer to Ivan. That’s why he took him.” Even talking was tiring, but she needed to fight just a little longer. “Tonight, Faustus. He’s gonna do it tonight.”
“Where, Billi? Where are you?”
The Indian take-away menu had it printed on the front. It was a local landmark and had been in the FitzRoy family since the Norman invasion. It had been their reward from William the Conqueror for standing fast at the battle of Hastings.
Erin had talked about it. Her favourite memory as a small kid with her dad. Playing on the beach, splashing in the waves and climbing over the castle ruins. The place, the village around it, was long abandoned having all but fallen into the sea. But it was ideal for what Reginald was planning.
“Hollburgh. I’m in Hollburgh,” said Billi. “Come quickly.”
“What about the others?”
What about them? She’d give anything to have Mo and the others fighting beside her. But after yesterday’s debacle at the ossuary? “No. Gwaine will find a way to delay you. I need you here immediately.”
“Fine. I get it. Anything else?” Faustus didn’t sound too happy, but time was running out. However, that didn’t mean she was planning to face Reggie with nothing but firm resolve.
“Yeah, one more thing,” said Billi. “Bring the biggest bloody sword you can find.”
CHAPTER 24
Faustus was there in less than two hours, rattling along the winding country lane in his clapped-out VW Beetle. Billi had tried to sleep but it just wasn’t happening. She’d dug up an Ordnance Survey map and worked out where she was, and that Hollburgh was just eight kilometres north along the coast. She’d tried to see it with the bird-watching binoculars that hung by the back door, but a soft drizzle had drifted in off the sea cutting down her view to less than a few hundred metres.
“I’m just sad I didn’t bring any siege equipment,” said Faustus. “You really want to do this? Attack an actual castle?”
“That’s where Reggie is, that’s where Ivan is and that’s where he’ll carry out his ritual so, yeah, I am really gonna attack an actual bloody castle. You in?”
Faustus chuckled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
She’d been more relieved than she’d imagined when he had arrived. He wore tough, heavy clothing, and had handed over the Templar sword the moment the door had opened. Billi had felt pretty relieved as she’d tightened her grip on its hilt. Funny how problems disappear when you’ve got steel in your fist.
He’d brought more, the boy could think on his feet. A few more weapons, naturally, but also her spare boots and heavy leather jacket. If you were going into a fight you wanted to be comfortable. And Billi planned on a lot of fighting.
“This is what we’re dealing with.” They stood over the small kitchen table, map open and a pile of local guidebooks piled on top. Billi opened one up, a large hardback. “This is the history of Hollburgh. The place was a big deal in the Middle Ages. Like most of East Anglia it was wool, being shipped out all across Europe. The FitzRoys controlled it all from their castle on the highest cliff. From it they protected this entire stretch of coastline with watch-towers and warning beacons. But over the centuries the waves ate away at the bottom of those cliffs and then during one stormy night in the 18th century the whole village fell into the sea. Look.” She turned the book around.
The Templar's Curse Page 17