by Mark Hayden
‘Which was why he needed your help to walk.’
She nodded to confirm my suggestion, and we reached our car. Iestyn’s was in front, engine growling. I unlocked the Volvo so that Vicky could get in, then I went round to Iestyn’s window. He saw me coming and lowered it.
‘Is it far?’ I asked.
‘Other side of the Usk. About twenty minutes.’
‘You did well in there, Iestyn, but I think the next step could be dangerous now that they know we’re coming.’
‘Don’t patronise me, Conrad. I let you take over because Harry said he wanted to keep me out of it for the sake of my future in Wales.’
I doubted that. I doubted it very much, but not quite enough to challenge him about it. ‘Fine. Is there a safe place to leave the cars before we approach the Nest?’
‘Secure car park at the bottom of the hill, on private land. The grove is on top of the hill, the Nest is underneath. We’ll sort things there.’
I stepped back, he raised the window, and I got in the Volvo. On the drive over, I repeated his comments.
Vicky frowned. ‘You did patronise him a bit. Not in the Chapel, but just now. On the other hand, I’m no linguist, but I didn’t spot any bits of Harry’s speech that weren’t translated.’
‘Me neither, and I don’t think they cooked it up in advance. I think Captain Pryce’s nose got put out of joint a little in there. I hope he doesn’t do something stupid to prove himself.’
‘He’s a young lad,’ said Vicky. ‘Of course he’ll do something stupid. Don’t tell me you didn’t at his age.’
‘That’s why we have two years of officer training. To stop us doing something stupid.’
18 — The Nesting Instinct
‘They chose a nice spot,’ said Vicky.
The sun was getting stronger, and unlike winter rays, these were actually warming my bones. We were leaning with our backs to the Volvo, looking up at a densely wooded hillside. From the road, half a mile away, it was just a plantation. Up close, you could see how generations of woodsmen and women had shaped the trees to screen whatever was happening at the top.
The Druids, said Iestyn, had a hall up above, and mostly used it as a changing room, conducting their business under an open sky. The path to the grove was hidden behind a dry stone wall and was invisible unless you knew where to look. The Nest, on the other hand, was much easier to find because a short track led from the car park to a public footpath. Apparently.
‘You can’t lock something as big as the entrance to a Dragon’s nest,’ said Vicky. ‘I reckon it will be set away from the footpath and have a Xanadu Portal.’ She turned to me. ‘A Xanadu Portal is the best way to conceal an opening. It folds back on itself, so you can’t see it at all from the outside. You just have to know it’s there and walk backwards. You walk into a lot of walls that way.’
‘Tell me there’s a better plan,’ I said.
‘You used to be good at seeing through Glamours,’ said Vicky.
I’d been thinking about that. I’d had to rely on her a lot at Stella’s place, but I’d got through the defences at Lunar Hall on my own. Either one of the gods had been helping me up there, or I was getting lazy. ‘Only one way to find out. If we do get in, what do we do?’
‘I’ll lead,’ said Iestyn emphatically.
I waited. ‘And?’
‘If there’s a Dragon, we run.’
‘I’m on board with that, Iestyn.’ The lad did have a point. We had no way of knowing what was in there at all. We really couldn’t do much more without further intelligence. ‘Which way?’
We walked down a bank to meet the public footpath. I looked back, and the car park was already out of sight.
The footpath followed the course of a brook which had cut a notch through the hill, making the land on which the Grove and Nest stood something of a promontory. It was a lovely walk up the path, and only a totally mad Rambler would want to stray off to the right and hack their way through the brambles to climb the steep slope which would lead to the grove. Even without the Wards which Vicky told me were there, the grove was well defended.
We’d gone a third of the way up the gully, and I was shivering. Out of the sun, it was almost freezing here, and the full-flowing beck seemed to take even more heat out of the air. I slowed right down and tried to sense anything off to the right. I got nothing, and neither did the others. Two thirds up and the path switchbacked. For a moment, were were in the sun, and I stopped to warm up and light a fag. We all looked around, up and down the gully.
‘I think we’ve missed it. We’re too high,’ said Iestyn.
‘I agree,’ said Vicky.
So did I. As I smoked, I let my mind wander and I let my eyes follow the stream down its rocky channel, past the stepping stones, round the rock and out into the flat meadows of the Usk floodplain.
Stepping stones.
Why could I see stepping stones now when we hadn’t passed them on the way up? I put out my cigarette in a puddle and stowed the butt in my pocket ashtray. ‘Come on, you two. I’ve got it.’
‘Really?’ said Iestyn.
‘Looks like it,’ said Vicky.
I’d taken a mental note of the big rock, and when a twist in the path brought me back to it, all signs of the stepping stones were gone. To all intents and purposes, this was a deep, fast-flowing stream with big drops. ‘Over there,’ I said. ‘The Xanadu Portal is over there.’
‘Wrong side,’ said Iestyn. ‘The Grove and Nest are on this side of the stream.’
I grabbed Vicky’s hand and willed myself to see the steps. I felt a tingle from her palm, and I could see three perfectly placed rocks to guide us across.
‘Bugger me,’ said Vicky, letting go of my hand.
‘There must be a tunnel under the stream,’ I said.
‘What are you looking at?’ said Iestyn.
I wasn’t going to hold his hand, so I stepped confidently into mid-air and felt solid rock under my foot. I didn’t let them see my sigh of relief.
We helped each other across the beck and I soon spotted footprints beyond the short strand of rock. ‘Who’s going to walk backwards into the lion’s den?’ I said.
‘Well, me,’ said Iestyn.
‘Wrong,’ I said. ‘I’m the only one with no offensive firepower, but I do have an Ancile. I need to go first, you two need to be ready to fight back.’
Vicky looked away because she knew I was right. Iestyn took a moment to think it through. ‘If you’re sure,’ he said.
‘I am, but I want my comfort blanket.’
While Iestyn looked mystified, I took off my rucksack and got out the components of my AK47.
‘What use is that?’ he asked.
‘It has a number of uses. If you think I’m going to fire, put up a Silence. Or wear these.’ I offered them some ear defenders, which they declined. I put mine in place, fastened the Hammer to my belt, activated the Ancile and switched on my torch. Vicky worked a Lightstick, and Iestyn gripped his sword.
I turned my back to the rock. ‘Ready?’
They nodded. To stop me worrying, I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth and parade-marched backwards towards a large lump of rock.
In mid step, someone took my good leg and whacked it on the heel with a hammer, or that’s what it felt like. I pushed hard with my foot, threw my back into it and took another step. Everything went cold. I took another step, eyes still screwed shut.
‘Conrad! Stop!’ shouted Vicky. ‘Don’t move. Open your eyes and turn round slowly.’
I opened my eyes. I was already inside a tunnel, and the others were standing on the threshold. Gripping the torch, I turned on my throbbing heel and gasped. I was half a step from falling down a stone staircase so deep I couldn’t see the bottom.
‘Good job I left one earplug half way out,’ I said. ‘Thanks, Vic. You keep saving my life, and I never buy you flowers.’
You’ll have noticed that Iestyn hadn’t shouted a warning. Maybe Vicky beat him to it by a fra
ction of a second. I don’t know – my eyes had been closed, so I couldn’t see his face.
‘There’s a big difference this time,’ said Vicky. ‘This is our mission together, not yours on your own.’
‘True. After you, Iestyn.’
He led us down the stairs, and the reason I couldn’t see the bottom is that they curved to the right, under the stream and down towards the Nest. We’d dropped about half the height to the car park when the steps levelled out.
‘We’re approaching a point underneath the footprint of the grove,’ I said.
‘How do you know that?’ said Iestyn.
‘It’s his party trick,’ said Vicky. ‘He’ll be right, though.’
From here, the tunnel ran at a slight tangent to the centre of the hill. I looked down at Vicky and she was starting to shake. Oh dear.
‘Did you take a Xanax?’ I whispered?
‘No. Hold me hand for a bit, will you?’
I moved to her left. Vicky is right-handed and I wanted her free to act. I’m just the pilot here. I squeezed her hand and coaxed her forward. Iestyn moved ahead, and in the glow from my torch and Vicky’s Lightstick, I could see the tunnel turn sharply to the left, which would point it back at the centre. Now would be a good time to regroup.
‘Iestyn,’ I hissed.
He waved a hand to show he’d heard me, then carried on round the corner. Up till now, the tunnel had been rough-hewn and uneven. Beyond the turn, it became smooth and finished. I moved closer to the wall and peered round.
A short way ahead, the tunnel opened to a huge cave with its own lighting. Iestyn was already half way there. I figured that Vicky might prefer the bigger space, so I led her forward. We approached the entrance, and I couldn’t take it all in at once.
The cave – chamber – was huge, at least 30m in diameter, and lit throughout with Lightsticks fastened to the walls. Even I could feel the magick in here, and it was the most Lux I’d sensed since gatecrashing the grove at Lunar Hall. I scanned round quickly, spotting a small opening diametrically opposite us, and a large, presumably Dragon-sized tunnel leading away to the right, towards the car park. When I saw that it was full of Roman concrete, my heart sank.
‘Shit, Vicky, we’ve been set up. Get ready to run.’
‘What? Why?’
I looked frantically for Iestyn, and saw him behind the chamber’s central feature – a stone plinth (altar, I suppose). Above the altar, high in the roof was a chimney, its opening blackened with soot.
Iestyn called something down the opening, then did it again louder – a name. ‘Surwen! It’s Iestyn.’ He heard something and started walking back.
‘Fuck. You’re right,’ said Vicky.
It was my call – should we leg it or stand our ground and play it by ear? I looked down at Vicky: the open space, bright lights and adrenalin had perked her up a bit. I grabbed her shoulder and leaned in to whisper, ‘If it goes tits-up, run like fuck. That’s an order. Clear?’
She heard my tone, saw the look in my face and said, ‘Aye. Sir.’
I eased myself in front of her as we heard footsteps coming into the chamber. Four figures emerged into the light, and only one was human. The other three were lions, if you can have tabby lions. They were the size and shape of lions, the male had a mane like a lion, and they had lions’ feet and muzzles, but they were striped like the tabby cat your next door neighbour once had.
‘Iestyn?’ said the human. Two steps further in, and I could see a tall woman in a green boiler suit. Given the custom, figure-hugging tailoring, I should probably say jumpsuit, but this was a practical garment. You could tell that by the bloodstains.
Iestyn, by now on our side of the altar, said something in Welsh. I could tell from his tone that he was apologising, then he waved at us and said something that included the words Watch Captain.
The woman snapped at him, then took a deep breath. She turned round and gave an order to the lions, also in Welsh. They growled and lay down by the opposite tunnel. The woman sashayed round the altar and stopped in front of us, planting her hands on her hips.
‘This is Surwen,’ said Iestyn to us. He was going to say more, but she cut him off and they started an argument in Welsh. I watched closely at first, checking their body language to see if we were at risk. Iestyn seemed to be putting his foot down about something, and Surwen was backing off, metaphorically speaking.
I widened my gaze to see what I might have missed before. I noticed a dagger tucked into Surwen’s belt, I noticed air moving between our tunnel and the chimney and I noticed the art – old art on the walls, too far away to see, and more art on the floor. Not Roman mosaic this time, but vivid dyes applied in bold strokes. There was no avoiding the circling, twisting, flying and swooping Dragons. The floor gleamed a little, and despite two thousand years of neglect, the images were as powerful as the day they’d been laid down. At the foot of the walls, balls of brown fur had gathered.
‘I know her,’ said Vicky to herself.
‘Where from?’
She snapped back to the present and pointed a finger. ‘She’s the Zoogenist.’
Surwen had style and presence. The combat-chic jumpsuit, the wavy hair, the way she thrust out her hip and the laced up DM boots all combined to present a woman who was both powerful and dominating, and who had created Mr Mole. I would never, ever forgive her for that.
‘Out of curiosity,’ I mouthed. ‘How old is she? She doesn’t look a day over my age. And no jokes.’
Vicky was looking puzzled when Iestyn turned to face us and interrupted her study.
‘Conrad, Vicky, there’s something we need to discuss,’ said Iestyn.
‘Oh?’ I said. I could have mentioned his treachery, but I was underground with three magickal lions, two potential enemies and a partner with claustrophobia. In these circumstances, discussion is good.
‘The Dragon is a demonstration,’ said Iestyn. ‘A demonstration of our ability to make magick at the highest level. There was never any intention to release it, only to show it could be done.’
‘That sounds dangerous. A mature Dragon is a dangerous thing, Iestyn.’
‘Once it has fire, we can show the world what we’ve done before we put it down. It won’t mature fully. You’re right, that would be too dangerous.’
He actually believed it. Iestyn Pryce truly believed what he was telling us. ‘What about you, Iestyn? What’s your future?’
‘I hope to be the first Constable of the Prince’s Watch. It might take a few years, but Wales has to grow up and run its own magickal affairs. After all, you’ve become a Watch Captain despite your record.’
Vicky gave me a raised eyebrow, but only for a second.
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Perhaps you’re right, but that’s not my concern. When did they drag you into this?’
‘When they brought the egg here to the Nest. I was here when VOLAC was summoned to quicken the egg. I was here when the egg hatched.’
Surwen had been watching closely and interrupted Iestyn’s youthful enthusiasm. ‘You do know that nothing we’ve done is illegal. Dragons are native to Albion. VOLAC was confined according to natural law. We’ll surrender the Hatchling. I’m a bit narked that you got here first, but Iestyn said he couldn’t stop you. He’s done his job perfectly.’
‘Vic? Is she right about the law?’
Vicky looked at me, willing me to understand something under her words. ‘About the Dragon, yes, that’s true. And the Dæmon.’
I nodded to show I’d got her drift and turned back to Surwen. I had one more question. ‘What about Harry Evans?’
‘He’s as passionate about Welsh magick as we are, but his campaigning days are long over. He’ll be thrilled when he hears what we’ve done, but we did it without him.’
Harry had been anything but thrilled, and her words confirmed that he was innocent of any involvement. It was time to act.
I let the sling on my shoulder take the weight of the Kalashnikov and touched my Badge of
Office. ‘Surwen of MADOC, by the authority of the Constable I am arresting you for breaching Article 19 of the Code by creating a Particular with Conscience, namely the creature known as His Worship, Lord Mayor of Moles.’
‘What?’ said Iestyn, aghast.
‘What mole?’ said Surwen.
Vicky got her badge from around her neck. ‘There’s a reason that Mary Shelley was allowed to publish Frankenstein.’
‘Is there?’ I said. That was news to me.
‘Aye, Conrad. It was mostly a true story, only a lot more people died in real life. The book was a warning.’
‘That book was a travesty,’ said Surwen. ‘But that’s beside the point. What is this mole you’re talking about?’
I stared at her, letting her see in my face what I thought of her. ‘He’s a friend of mine. If I thought you could stabilise him, I’d resign my commission and offer you a deal, but you botched the job so badly that he’s beyond help. All I can offer him is justice.’
‘Surwen? What’s this about?’ said Iestyn. All of a sudden, he wasn’t so keen on talking in Welsh. Perhaps he was coming to his senses.
Vicky stepped to the side. ‘I’m a qualified Imprimatist. I never thought it would be any use, but I’ve examined Mr Mole, and you, and your Imprint is clearly visible in his Enhancement.’
Surwen pointed to us, speaking to Iestyn in quick-fire Welsh. So quick he didn’t get it. She said it again, jabbing her finger at Vicky.
‘No,’ said Iestyn. ‘You can answer that in the Cloister Court. I’ll speak up for you.’
She spoke again.
Iestyn looked at us, fear in his eyes. I stepped further away from Vicky.
‘No, Surwen,’ said Iestyn. ‘Let them take you in before Vicky gets out a recorder and translates what you’re saying.’
That was the moment. That was the moment the talking stopped.
Surwen screamed at the lions, then jumped on the altar, scattering ashes. She gestured at me, and I braced myself for an attack like the ones I’d endured from Keira. I needn’t have worried – Surwen had no power with blast magick, and it barely troubled my Ancile. What she did have was three lions.