The Mortal Knife

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The Mortal Knife Page 16

by D. J. McCune


  His thoughts were whirling. He had to get out of there. But how? Stealthily he slipped back towards the stairwells and began to creep down the stairs. Halfway down he paused. There was no point just going back into Clotho’s weaving room; he could wander there forever. He needed another doorway, one that would take him back into the Hinterland. He’d been scared of the Hunter before but Morta was turning out to be much more terrifying.

  As he descended the stairs Adam tried to visualise what he needed. A different doorway. A doorway that will take me away from here and back to my world. He pictured it almost fiercely: pale wood, a plain metal handle and beyond he pictured the endless grey light of the Hinterland. I want to go home.

  And at the bottom of the stairs instead of one door into the barn there were two. He looked at the new doorway with a mixture of fascination and relief. A world where you could just imagine things into existence. He could get used to this.

  He eased the door open and crept back into the Hinterland. Thankfully there was no sign of the Hunter. Adam didn’t hang about out of curiosity. He’d seen as much of the Hunter as he ever wanted to. He clutched his keystone and swooped home, hoping no one would be in the garden. At least he knew Morta hadn’t been cutting any threads when he left. She’d probably been plotting with Darian or kissing him or cutting him into little pieces with her knife. Adam had a feeling she would enjoy any of those activities equally. Whatever she was doing at that moment, hopefully she wasn’t killing anyone.

  The garden was empty and Adam scurried off into the paddock, dabbing his nose and trying to kill time. His hours in the Hinterland had only been a moment in the physical world and he didn’t want to arrive home too early. No point raising suspicions. Now that he was safely back he felt weak and shaky. It was a relief to be on firm ground again.

  Darian was more of a threat than Adam had ever imagined. Before he’d thought Darian was simply snooping about, trying to make a good impression on the Concilium. After all, Darian was one of the youngest Curators in Luman history. Now Adam realised that he had underestimated Darian’s hatred of Nathanial. The question was, what was Darian hoping to achieve? Elise and Nathanial were lawfully married. Divorce was incredibly rare in the Luman world. Even if Nathanial lost his position as High Luman, Elise would still be married to him. The only thing that would separate them was death …

  Adam froze. Was it possible? Was this why Darian was so desperate for proof of the rogue Luman’s wrong-doing? After all, Adam had sneaked a peek at The Book of the Unknown Roads and the penalty for interfering with the Fates had been all too clear – the death penalty. Was Darian hoping to implicate Nathanial too, hoping that he would share in the rogue Luman’s fate and face execution? A coldness stole over Adam that had nothing to do with the spring air. It made a twisted kind of sense. With Nathanial dead and the family in disgrace and stripped of their Keystones, Elise would have no choice but to marry whoever would have her.

  Even so, the whole thing was mad! This was his mother they were talking about! Yes, she was beautiful, but she was hardly some supermodel or rock star! Darian was a Curator. He could marry anyone. Some of the most powerful Luman families in the world would gladly hand over their daughters for betrothal. Why the obsession with Elise?

  Adam frowned. There was a back story here and there was only one person who could fill him in. Unfortunately even Auntie Jo was going to get suspicious if he grilled her two nights in a row. He had never exactly been a keen student of Luman history and gossip. She was going to be curious about why he was suddenly so interested in the Luman world.

  Luck, however, was on his side. When he finally risked going into the kitchen Aron and Luc were missing but everyone else was there – and so was Uncle Paddy. Better yet, there were two bottles of Irish whisky on the table, one of them half empty. Auntie Jo was sitting beside Uncle Paddy with a brimming glass, already looking merry. Hopefully she would be feeling talkative later on. ‘You nearly missed our visitor Adam!’

  ‘Yeah, I was at school,’ Adam said, not quite meeting anyone’s eye. ‘Hi Uncle Paddy.’

  ‘How are you Adam?’ Uncle Paddy was grinning at him. ‘I love your duds.’

  Adam grinned in spite of himself. ‘Thanks. What’s for dinner?’ This was usually the first question he asked when he got home so he reckoned he was just playing it cool and acting normal.

  Elise was standing at the counter mixing something in a bowl. ‘Cassoulet.’ She stirred in short, angry bursts.

  Uncle Paddy winked at Adam. ‘Don’t they always say the girls can’t resist a man in uniform? Is that what this school business is about? Come on, you can tell me. We’re all friends here.’

  ‘No girl worth knowing will be impressed by a school uniform. A coming-of-age shirt is a different matter.’ Elise’s smile would have frozen lava. ‘Will you be joining us Patrick?’

  ‘Stay if you can Patrick,’ Nathanial said quietly. He was sitting at the table nursing a small glass of whisky. He looked shattered. ‘I can’t promise I’ll be joining you all for dinner but I’d like to catch up afterwards.’

  Uncle Paddy stood up and shook his head. His face was sympathetic. ‘I won’t keep you Nathanial. Here’s hoping you get to eat a meal in peace.’

  ‘Are there loads of sudden deaths in Ireland too?’ Adam asked on impulse – then bitterly regretted the question when everyone turned and looked at him.

  Luckily Uncle Paddy didn’t seem to find it strange. ‘No Adam. If anything we’re quieter than usual. Our new Lady Fate seems to be keeping that knife of hers busy in the Kingdom of Britain.’ The way he said ‘lady’ implied the exact opposite. He clapped Nathanial’s shoulder. ‘I’ll send Ciaron over to help out any time you want. Just say the word.’

  ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary Patrick,’ Elise said. ‘Now that Aron is Marked we have extra hands.’

  Uncle Paddy shrugged. ‘Well, the offer’s there.’

  ‘Thank you Patrick,’ Nathanial said. ‘And Ciaron is always welcome here, any time he wants.’

  ‘He’ll be glad to see you all. Especially one young lady not too far away.’ Uncle Paddy winked at Chloe.

  Elise pursed her lips and stirred harder.

  It was late before Adam managed to corner Auntie Jo. To everyone’s surprise there had only been one call-out that evening. For the first time in several weeks Nathanial had eaten at the kitchen table with the whole family. There had been fervent speculation as to why Morta was allowing them a quiet night. Adam had eaten in guilty silence, thinking about the conversation he had overheard. It seemed Darian had been granted his wish. Fewer deaths in Britain meant lighter duties for the Concilium – and more time for him to snoop about and catch the rogue. Adam was going to have to tread carefully.

  Although he hadn’t forgotten Darian’s words. No souls have been saved for three weeks. It was true. Adam hadn’t saved anyone since the girl on the bus on his first day back at school. Thinking about it made him feel sick and guilty – but what choice had he had? His doom sense had been quieter than usual, probably because he had been so happy most of the time. Even during the last week when Morta had wielded the Mortal Knife freely he had only felt some of the deaths as they happened and none before. And knowing now that Darian and Morta were working together – what else could he do but be glad he hadn’t walked into their trap?

  Nathanial had gone to bed early, trying to catch up on some sleep while things were quiet and Elise was playing the piano in the music room. All four Mortson offspring were gathered in the den with Auntie Jo, watching her latest find: Zombie Lovechild’s Revenge. Adam waited impatiently for the others to drift off one by one. Auntie Jo drank steadily as the film reached a spectacularly gory conclusion. She was yawning by the time Luc read a text message and slipped out of the room. Adam felt a momentary twinge of alarm, then realised that Morta probably wouldn’t have to resort to using a mobile if she wanted to contact Luc.

  Finally it was just the two of them. Auntie Jo slumped back i
n the sofa. ‘I need to go to bed but I can’t face walking up the stairs. Do you want to carry me?’

  Adam grinned. ‘Maybe if Aron and Luc were here too … ’

  ‘Cheeky brat,’ Auntie Jo grumbled, then ruined the effect by grinning back. She sloshed the last of her drink round in her glass. ‘So what’s up? I get the feeling you’re lurking with intent.’

  Adam grimaced. He hadn’t been as subtle as he’d thought. He wasn’t sure of the best way to bring the conversation round. Better to stick to the present before he began delving into the past. ‘Why was Uncle Paddy here?’

  Auntie Jo shrugged. ‘A social visit, I suppose. Things have been quiet in Ireland recently, at least for the fast-response Lumen. The “Troubles” have calmed down, so that helps. Plus that witch has been keeping her knife busy here. I think this is the first evening your father has been at home for a week.’

  This wasn’t really taking the conversation where Adam wanted it to go. ‘I thought he might be here to talk about Chloe. You know, her and Ciaron getting betrothed.’

  Auntie Jo yawned like a cat. ‘He wouldn’t talk about that in front of the family. He would have a quiet word with your father. They were in the study for a while before they came into the kitchen. These things are delicate matters, you know. There’s a lot of pride at stake.’

  Bingo, Adam thought. This was his way in. He kept his voice as casual as possible. ‘Yeah, I guess Father is pretty conscious of that stuff. You know, with Mother marrying him instead of Darian.’ He held his breath, praying she would take the bait.

  Luckily the whisky was working its dark magic. Auntie Jo sighed and rested her head on the back of the sofa. ‘Yes, I think one betrothal scandal in the family was enough.’

  Scandal? This could get interesting, Adam thought. ‘So how did they meet? Father and Mother?’

  Auntie Jo shrugged. ‘The same way anyone meets. At a ball.’ She smiled and her face softened, suddenly becoming much younger. ‘I used to love a good ball. It got us out of the house. And that one was a humdinger! Ironically it was Darian’s Marking ball in Paris. Your mother was there and I have to admit she looked amazing, but she was a proud little madam – worse then than she is now, if you can believe it. Everyone expected she would be betrothed to Darian. They both have High Lumen in the family so they seemed like a sure thing.’

  She fell silent. Adam tried to prompt her to go on. ‘Well, maybe they were too close? You know, the families? Like maybe they were too closely related. All that genetic stuff.’

  Auntie Jo gave another enormous yawn. ‘I doubt genetics had anything to do with it. The whole Luman world is related in degrees. After all, Mortson was a French name. We’re related to Darian on both sides of the family if you go back far enough. Funnily enough, that’s why we got excited when you were younger and we thought you might be a Seer too. There were a few Seers in Darian’s line.’

  Adam brushed away a guilty pang. It was better for everyone if they thought he had grown out of being a Seer and his little talent remained a secret. ‘So why didn’t Mother and Darian get together then?’

  Auntie Jo raised an eyebrow. ‘Because she fell for your father of course. And boy did she fall!’ She sniggered suddenly and dropped her hand, making a whistling sound and letting her palm splat onto the sofa. ‘She was supposed to be working the room that night but she couldn’t stop dancing with Nathanial. You saw them the other night – they’ve always danced well together. Your grandmother came and told her off but she ignored her. She was besotted.’ She paused for a moment. ‘You know, Elise and I have never been close but I will say one thing for her. I have never for a moment doubted that she loves your father with everything that is in her. She loves you too, all of you. She isn’t always good at showing it – but she would throw herself in a fire for any of you, without even blinking.’

  There was a long silence after these words. For some reason Adam’s throat had tightened and he had to swallow hard to make it go back to normal. ‘So they got married and lived happily ever after?’

  Auntie Jo grimaced and took another swig from her glass. ‘Well, yes and no. There was a lot of opposition to the betrothal, especially from Darian’s family. After all, he had practically been raised with Elise so it had seemed like a sure thing. I always felt sorry for him you know. I don’t like the man but I do pity him. It was supposed to be his big night – and then an upstart from Britain came and ruined all his plans. And he had loved your mother all his life. He thought they belonged together.’

  Adam stared at her, bewildered but trying not to show it. After all, the Mortsons were hardly upstarts. They had plenty of High Lumen in their line too and Nathanial was one of the youngest men ever to become High Luman. ‘But the wedding went ahead.’

  ‘After a fashion. It probably wasn’t the wedding your mother had dreamed of.’ Auntie Jo smiled but there was something else there – a sadness. ‘And now here we all are.’

  There was no way Adam was letting her finish there. ‘What do you mean? Did something happen?’

  Auntie Jo yawned again. ‘I’m not supposed to be telling you this Adam.’

  Her eyes were closing and her words were slurring. Adam knew he was taking advantage of her drinking but he had to get to the bottom of this. Nathanial’s life might depend on it. All their lives might depend on it. He stayed silent, willing her to go on.

  At last Auntie Jo sighed. ‘I suppose you’ll read about it in the history books eventually. The wedding was cancelled.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because our family was tainted with scandal and the Luman world turned its back on us. More than one wedding was cancelled that year.’ There was no mistaking the anger now in Auntie Jo’s voice – or the bitterness.

  Adam’s head was full of questions after that statement but he knew he was almost out of time. ‘So how did Mother and Father end up married?’

  ‘They eloped. We never knew which of the Curators performed the Ceremony and they always refused to say. I’ve always suspected it was Heinrich. He had just joined the Concilium. He’s always been a romantic at heart.’

  Adam’s jaw was hanging open. He snapped it shut. This was too bizarre! Heinrich, Chief Curator, performing an unauthorised betrothal and wedding? His parents running off like something out of Shakespeare? All these people pretending to be respectable and telling him he had to be a good boy and get betrothed and come of age and be a good Luman … and yet when they were younger they were all running about like crazies?! He shook his head, struggling to reconcile his picture of his parents as he knew them (the perfect Luman family) with the romantic figures from Auntie Jo’s story.

  ‘A happy ending,’ Auntie Jo said and gave a strange laugh. ‘Everyone loves a happy ending.’ She staggered to her feet. ‘I need to go to bed now. Goodnight Adam.’

  Adam opened his mouth to ask her more – but it was too late. She had gone. His head was whirling with scenes from the past. At least now he could understand why Darian hated Nathanial so much – although in some ways it would have made more sense to hate Elise. Maybe love wasn’t rational. Maybe Darian couldn’t bring himself to hate Elise for hurting him. Maybe he still believed even now that someday they could be together. If his plan to hunt down the rogue succeeded he might have his wish fulfilled.

  Adam sighed and followed Auntie Jo upstairs. It was only in his room that he thought of all the questions he should have asked. What was the scandal that had tainted the family enough to end a betrothal? And from what Auntie Jo had said, more than one betrothal had ended over it. The question was: whose?

  Adam tried to sleep but seeing his aunt’s sadness, he had a horrible feeling he knew the answer to that question.

  Chapter 17

  For the first night in an age not a single Mortson was disturbed from their slumber by a call-out. Ironically the only one with a restless night was Adam. His dreams had been haunted by a mishmash of images from the past and the present. He was at a ball, whirling Melissa round a dance
floor, worrying that her school uniform made her look out of place. Darian stalked past with a blood-stained knife, hunting one of the dogs, while Auntie Jo sat on a throne in a white dress gorging herself on wedding cake.

  It was a relief to wake up and throw himself into the shower. Dressing in his bedroom, Adam stared at his reflection. Somehow no matter what else was going on in his life his school uniform acted like an anchor, pinning him in place. I still live in the real world. The Luman world is only one bit of it, he thought almost fiercely, his blue eyes wild and bloodshot in the mirror. I can keep living in the REAL world if I just try hard enough.

  He crept downstairs, hoping for a peaceful slice of toast and a chance to look through his biology notes in preparation for the Buzzard’s latest test – only to be intercepted on the stairs by a bedraggled-looking Auntie Jo. Adam stopped and stared. He hadn’t expected to see Auntie Jo this side of dinner time after the whisky she had put away the night before. Obviously he wasn’t the only one who’d had a restless night.

  She held her hand up before he could say a thing. ‘You know why I’m waiting for you. I was indiscreet last night. I talked about things that shouldn’t have been mentioned and I want you to forget about them. Certainly don’t repeat a word of what I said.’ She waited for him to nod in agreement and frowned. ‘Good. You were rather devious last night Adam. You knew I’d drunk a little more than I should have. I found myself wondering why you were so interested in betrothals and the past. Then I realised why you were suddenly so keen.’

 

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