by Liz de Jager
‘Kit!’ The voice is so loud – and right in my ear – that I startle and almost drop the pendant. But Dante’s there, his hands covering mine, and his eyes are wide with fright. I realize he’s never actually seen the mirrors and how they work.
‘Thorn?’ I nod at Dante to show him I’m okay, and I open my hands so I can look into the depths of the black mirror.
‘Kit.’ This time Thorn’s face is there, although slightly fuzzy, and I exhale in relief. ‘Are you all right?’ he says.
I cup the disc between my hands. ‘I’m fine. I’ve been trying to find you since we came back – and all I’ve ever managed to see is a bit of mist and trees until now.’
‘… been fluctuations and not safe to reply until now. I’m well, as is Crow.’
‘I was worried. We all were. We’d not heard from you after what happened.’
I am not imagining his tense expression or the way his mouth narrows to a flat line. ‘It has been an interesting few weeks. Someone is with you?’
I drag Dante closer so that he can also look down into the mirror. I’m pretty sure all Thorn is seeing of us are our nostrils so I angle the disc a little to help with the view.
‘Dante’s here. We’re at Aiden’s house.’
‘Thorn.’ Dante sketches a little salute and Thorn smiles at him and there’s definitely relief in his eyes.
‘It’s good to see you are both well and together. Where is the wolf?’
‘Out shopping for supplies,’ Dante replies offhandedly, scowling at his cousin. ‘Thorn, what’s going on with you? We left you in that clearing and you turn into a bloody great big fire-breathing dragon. And then we hear nothing – until now. This is not how we operate!’
I bite my lips because this is what I am desperate to yell too but, really, I don’t want to be that girl. The girl who loses her mind if the boy she fancies doesn’t bother calling. Or, you know, use a magical mirror to communicate with her.
Thorn looks taken aback by his cousin’s outburst but then his expression softens and he hangs his head in apology. ‘It didn’t even occur to me to get in touch,’ he says, and I can hear the truth of it in his voice. ‘I am not used to others, to friends, caring about my well-being. I am well, as you can see.’
‘Well, you’ve a bunch of people who care a lot right now, so you should –’ Dante’s scowl deepens – ‘definitely check in more to let us know you’re not lying dead in a ravine somewhere. And even if you were, I’m sure you could still find a way to let us know – you strike me as the stubborn type.’
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing and pat Dante’s shoulder and I really want to hug him hard. ‘Yes, Thorn. What Dante said. No more hiding from us. We are interested in knowing you are okay. And alive.’
Thorn’s smiling now too and the tight worry lines around his eyes ease a little. He says something but it’s lost in a burst of static. His face becomes blurry for a second before it refocuses.
‘It may be difficult to stay in touch as often as I’d like,’ he says. ‘Crow and I are due to travel soon. The Veil … there are things happening in the Otherwhere that are … a cause for concern.’
‘There are things happening here that are cause for concern too,’ I point out. ‘The weather here is weird, Thorn. Even worse than when Olga manifested as a dragon.’ I wait a beat for that to register with him. ‘We think that whatever is happening in the Otherwhere is being reflected in the Frontier.’
‘As above, so below,’ Thorn mutters, and I only hear it because I’m leaning closer to the mirror, because the damn thing keeps flickering with the weird static. ‘It is only strange weather that you’re experiencing?’
Dante and I share a look and he mouths ‘only’ at me questioningly – and suddenly I’m worried by the implication that there could be and should, possibly, be more things happening.
‘Isn’t it enough? It is freezing out, like tundra cold. There are freakish storms all over the world in places that never get storms and there’s snow, Thorn. Snow in Jordan. Where it never snows at this time of year. And it’s on TV and in the newspapers, because the meteorologists are unable to make head or tail of it.’
There’s movement in the mirror and Thorn’s sitting back, showing some of the room behind him. The term Spartan comes to mind and I wonder what kind of life he leads in that tower, where he’s undergoing his training.
‘I wasn’t aware that matters had gone this far in your world,’ he says, sounding weary. ‘I should have checked earlier, I’m sorry. You’re right, Kit, I should have thought about it sooner.’ He shuffles a bit in his chair and leans closer to the mirror; there’s another burst of interference before it settles. When he speaks, his voice is low and quiet with worry. ‘The Veil is collapsing and it means … actually, it means a great many things. Crow and I, we’re hoping to find something to help stop the Veil from crumbling further.’
‘The kids?’ I ask, sitting closer still. ‘The goddess? Is she okay – surely she’s being fed enough so that her power can sustain the Veil? Are the kids okay?’
‘Brixi has not spoken to me since we left the ruined palace, but there’s more to this trouble with the Veil than merely the goddess’s powers failing.’ Thorn looks up and suddenly seems so very tired. ‘The great forest is infected with a blight. Parts of it are failing. And along with the Veil, the forest forms the Otherwhere’s biggest defence. The forest constrains the magic the Veil generates. Together, the goddess, the Veil and the forest prevent raw magic from seeping into your world and other worlds.’
‘When you say raw magic,’ Dante prompts him, ‘what exactly do you mean?’
‘Raw magic is what the songlines are made of. The closer to the source of the magic you are, the more dangerous it can be. There hasn’t been real magic in the human world for centuries. Occasionally something would happen, a node would burst or a creature would get through without permission and go on a rampage. For humans to experience raw magic, uncontrolled magic, would mean … it would mean being consumed by it entirely. A rare handful of humans have the ability to deal with magic in the first place, others would merely become magic’s pawns.’
‘You make it sound like magic can be an infection, turning people into zombies.’
Thorn’s gaze narrows as he stares at Dante. ‘If you call it an infection you make it sound as if it has a will of its own. Magic is the essence of life. It enhances what is already within you. It’s a neutral power within us all that can be directed to manifest in order to do what we want it to do. That is how sorcerers use magic – they harness the ability they’re born with. Wizards learn spells and incantations and mimic this ability.’
I let this sink in. I think about my own magic and ability and I wonder exactly what I am, as I seem to be a mix of both. I notice that Dante’s expression is thoughtful as he too digests the information Thorn’s sharing.
‘Is there anything you need us to do this side?’ I ask him and Dante’s grip tightens on my shoulder. ‘Anything that may help you figure out how to make things better?’
‘Nothing that immediately comes to mind, but I’ll be sure to be in touch.’ His hand drifts towards his eyebrow to rub the curve there in a gesture that is so familiar it makes me ache. But then he smiles lightly and looks at me and his eyes seem so very blue in that moment. ‘Thank you, for offering. Both of you.’
I swallow against the knot in my throat. ‘Yeah, okay. Just don’t wait so long to get in touch, okay?’
‘I won’t. I promise.’ His gaze shifts to Dante. ‘Cousin, may I speak to Kit in private for a few moments?’
Dante nods without question and leaves the kitchen.
‘Kit.’
‘Thorn.’ I grin at his little eye roll when I use the same serious tone he’s using.
‘I feel I need to apologize. For being a bad friend. For not thinking about contacting you. For letting you worry when there was no reason for you to be concerned.’
‘For the guardian of the realms you’r
e really a bit of an idiot, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. I think so.’ He sits closer to the mirror and it distorts completely before it refocuses, the static giving a soft whine to his words before his voice stabilizes. ‘Kit, everything I said before, the last time we were together – I was serious. I think we stand a chance, you and I, of being together, of getting to know one another when the world isn’t breaking. I’m going to do my utmost to make that happen, by fixing whatever is broken. We deserve to know one another. To see where this –’ he gestures between us – ‘goes, don’t you think?’
I bite my lips against the upswell of tears and nod. ‘Yes, I’d like that, very much. I mean, it’s fun fighting by your side, but it’s all we seem to do. And I think sometimes it would be nice to just sit down and talk, like normal people do.’
He does a little shocked moue and it makes me laugh. ‘Like normal people do? Kit … are we so very abnormal?’
‘Yes.’ I try for a light tone but it falls flat; instead, I just feel incredibly sad. ‘We’re not normal, not at all. And, yes, we deserve better and more. Let’s fix this latest problem and then figure out the rest. Does that sound like a plan?’
‘It does indeed.’ He looks to the side and I hear voices in the background. ‘I have to go. Be safe, little Blackhart. Don’t pick fights you can’t win. I’d be loath to lose you.’
I touch the small disc with reluctant fingers. ‘I’ll do my best. Stay in touch, Thorn.’
The mirror gives a last high-pitched static blast before turning black and I take a shuddering breath. Wow, okay. I didn’t expect that to hit me so hard. I wipe a stray tear from my cheek
‘You okay, kiddo?’ Dante’s back at my side within moments. His eyes search my face and there’s real concern there.
I open my mouth to tell him I’m fine, but instead what comes out is a real sob and to my horror the sob is the trigger for more tears to start falling down my face. Without a word he pulls me out of the chair, wraps both arms around me and holds me tight.
Chapter Ten
It’s about an hour later when my phone starts to ring. I don’t recognize the number at all.
‘This is Kit,’ I say, my voice wary.
‘Blackhart, this is Detective Shen. I need you and your Spook to come down and meet me.’
‘Why?’ The question is out before I can help it. There’s no reason for Shen to contact me at all. ‘We’ve not been near Brixton, the estate or Tia’s parents since you escorted us away the last time.’
‘I’m aware of that. Write down this address.’ Her tone tells me exactly how little patience she has with me. ‘How long will it take you to get here?’
I flash the address at Aiden and mouth ‘How long?’ at him, knowing that he’d have heard most of the conversation anyway, because of crazy werewolf hearing.
‘Tell her about forty minutes, maybe longer, depending on traffic.’
Before I can reply to her she’s talking again. ‘I heard. Get here, as soon as you can. Faster if possible.’
‘Do you want to tell me what this is about?’
Previously I’d just heard impatience in her tone; the way she suddenly hesitates now worries me. ‘Not over the phone.’
‘Fine, we’ll see you soon.’
I hang up and look at the two boys. ‘Well. I have no idea what to think about that. Why would she call us?’
‘Maybe she needs you to hunt a ghost? Or slay a demon?’ Aiden says, pulling his hoodie on over his Henley T-shirt. ‘Get a jacket. You’re gonna freeze out there.’
We hustle, putting on scarves, hats and gloves before we head back out, via the basement where Aiden’s car’s parked.
‘When she said, “Get here faster,” do you think we can pretend we’re the Sweeney?’ Aiden asks as he guns the Cayenne out of the garage, startling a tiny elderly lady walking her equally diminutive chihuahua along the mews.
‘No,’ Dante says decisively. ‘I don’t think she meant that at all. Just … don’t drive like you stole the car. I’m sure whatever it is will wait till we get there.’
I listen to them banter and Google the address. It’s somewhere past Shakespeare’s Globe on the South Bank. There’s nothing there I recognize from previous jobs I’ve worked. I wonder if it has something to do with the Child Thief case, but following that line of thought makes me feel very uncomfortable.
Detective Shen is waiting for us when we pull up to an unremarkable building near the river and the Tate. There are unmarked police cars, ‘police do not cross’ tape is being strung along the road and a number of serious-looking people are earnestly checking the scene. I feel young and out of my element as I slide out of the car, immediately shivering in the cold air. We shake hands, and Dante introduces Aiden. Shen’s dressed warmly against the chill and she looks less than pleased to have us around; or maybe she’s just cold.
‘I expect you to share whatever thoughts you have on what I’m about to show you – is that clear? I’m laying my neck on the line here calling you in but, as it involves you to a certain extent, I had no choice.’
I nod, feeling nervous as hell. Her serious expression and ominous words sit heavily on me. ‘What about if we can’t help at all? Or what if whatever this is is more Blackhart than cop-stuff?’ I ask her. ‘What do we do with that?’
Shen’s eyes go flinty and she suppresses a sigh. ‘You’re more like your uncle Jamie than I anticipated.’
I’m sure she means it as an insult but I pointedly grin at her to show her I’m taking that as a compliment. Behind me Aiden mutters under his breath but it’s Dante who takes the lead.
‘You rang us, Detective Shen.’
‘I did. I’m starting to doubt my sanity, though.’ She continues, after an unimpressed pause, ‘A body was found this morning. I need you to tell me if you can … I don’t even know. Sense something? If you can tell what happened? The body is of a small child. Be prepared.’
I feel a numbness stealing over me at the unreality of the situation as we’re handed wrapped overalls and booties by a crime scene technician. I swim in mine, Aiden looks as if he’s going to do a Hulk impression, and Dante somehow makes even the protective gear look stylish. I hate him a little. But Shen doesn’t let us linger, hastily donning her own gear before turning to lead us towards a white incident tent.
‘The call came two hours ago. Someone saw something in the river, thought it was flotsam. It wasn’t.’ Shen waved a hand. ‘Long story short, we were called. Divers went in, took a look. It’s one of the kids that went missing from the estate – last seen with the goddess, as per your respective reports.’
‘Tia?’ I ask her and I don’t know how I know I’m right. Shen’s mouth tightens even more and her nod is brief.
‘I brought you here as a matter of professional courtesy. I know that in theory, Agent Alexander, you’re on holiday – but as you were part of the investigation with Ms Blackhart, I thought it prudent to have you both here.’
‘What about me?’ Aiden asks her as we loiter outside the tent.
‘You, Mr Garrett, can be the hot yet ultimately useless friend who gets underfoot.’
There’s a beat of silence before Aiden speaks again. ‘Wait, you think I’m hot?’ he says, just as Shen ushers us into the tent.
‘Give us a moment,’ she says to the four men and women made anonymous by their protective overalls. They leave without question and the silence in the tent is unnerving. My hands start shaking as we walk over to the tiny covered figure lying on a cold-looking table.
Dante has his notebook out and is making notes as Shen talks. Aiden looks as if he’s trying not to go wolf in anger at the presence of the small body. And as I stare down into Tia’s unblinking gaze, I can’t think about anything else.
She’s small for her age. A tiny thing with a cute button nose set in a smooth thin oval face, gangly little limbs and crazy corkscrew curls that were once full of life and bounce. Nothing about her looks out of the ordinary. She’s just a cute gir
l who should be tucked up in bed dreaming about normal stuff little girls dream about. She shouldn’t be lying here, on the table, in this tent, not breathing.
I curl my fists by my side. There’s a smell in the tent of damp and unpleasant things that’s oppressive and I fight to stay standing.
I breathe through my mouth and I really need to get a grip, because I can feel myself starting to panic. My magic’s thrumming wildly under my skin and my heart’s beating loudly in my ears.
Dante slants me a curious look before going back to what Shen’s saying, nodding and writing notes.
Tia’s dead.
I left her behind in the Otherwhere, alive, and now she’s back here in the Frontier, no longer alive.
There’s a police investigation happening right now and I can’t freak out like a civilian weakling because I’m not.
The shift happens so unexpectedly, between one blink of an eye to the next, that I’m taken unaware. The room around me vanishes and the smell of magic is thick and heavy in the air. In my vision, I’m suddenly flat on my back, with the water of the river closing over my head.
Chapter Eleven
‘Get her outside, right now, and stop her from bleeding everywhere.’ Shen’s voice is cold as I come to.
I gasp for air as the vision loses its grip. I clutch vaguely at the chest I’m pressed against.
One moment we’re in the tent and the next we’re outside and the air is fresher, but I can still smell the river.
‘Dammit, Kit, what the hell?’ Aiden spins me so I’m suddenly upright again. I sway dangerously, my head swimming from the motion and from the power of what I’ve just experienced.
His hands cup my face and he tilts my head a little so that all I can see are his angry eyebrows and the dim grey skies above. ‘I thought you said the nosebleed the other day wasn’t anything to worry about.’
There are tissues being thrust in my face and I’m on autopilot, pinching my nose to staunch the flow. This time the accompanying headache is heavy and thick, and it spreads within seconds, making my vision go completely weird.