by Juliet Boyd
With every step, it felt as if he were being dragged into a world he didn’t want to know. Every bird sounded like a crazed creature about to attack, every little furry thing had eyes that glowed in the light and extraordinarily large mouths, every plant seemed to reach out and want to grab him. If all that was just his insecurities, he really was screwed up — or blood poor.
There came a point, after the interminable miles, when he was sure he could see some kind of building up ahead. There were certainly lights, evenly placed, as if in rooms. It could’ve been an illusion. Malice had magic. Dark magic. Hence, he assumed, the name she’d chosen for herself. Well, no parent would call you that. Would they? No.
A building couldn’t be all bad, and it would be airy and light, even if it wasn’t welcoming.
He kept on walking.
He would get there soon. Wherever there was.
###
“How do I get out of here?” Bones asked.
Three blank faces stared back at him.
“Out of here?” Dorey said.
“Leave?” Hattie said.
Marchmont crossed his arms. He glared down at Bones. He had to be seven feet tall, minimum. “What ever for? I told you. This is where those who cannot be cleansed stay. That is it. The end. The beginning. And the middle. There are no doings that will change that.”
Bones smiled thinly. “Have you tried?”
The blank faces got even blanker.
They hadn’t tried? Even truly mad people tried. This was grand scale apathy. He needed to delve deeper. “Why can’t we be cleansed?”
Marchmont’s face coloured. “Because we’re impure. I told you.”
“Impure, how?”
“Well, I …”
“What are you?”
“What are we?”
“I’m a vampire. And part dog, when I turn.” Marchmont raised an eyebrow. “I’m not … pure. Not a pure species?”
“Ooooh,” Hattie said, and began to tap a finger against her lips.
“That could be it,” Dorey said. “My DNA was spliced with that of a Dormouse. My mother said the aliens did it, when they took her away in the middle of summer. Look, I have whiskers.”
It looked like a very scrappy moustache to him.
“Vampires don’t exist,” Marchmont said. “They’re a construct to scare—”
Bones jumped onto Marchmont’s front, clutching him with his legs, and bared his fangs in his face. “I’m really, really thirsty, so don’t tempt me.” He lowered himself to the ground and stepped back.
“Well, really.” Marchmont brushed himself down. “I’m a single species. It cannot be that.”
“You’re not.” Hattie huffed. “You said your mother had an affair. That makes you. Well, not what you say you are.”
“I am!”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire, and the rest of your clothes.” Hattie sighed. “I have no idea what I am. I was left outside the healing lady’s house when I was a baby. I don’t suppose that’s a good thing.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is,” Bones said. “But that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re not mad. We’re all just unlucky.” And who was it who had the right to decide that they weren’t pure? “So, we’re all imprisoned against our will. Who wants to get out of here?”
Chapter 9
“You were delirious, that’s what happens when you’re ill. You must’ve had a fever. You were talking all sorts of jibberish once you started to come around. You’re still not right.”
Ellie scowled at Flynn. “I am perfectly fine.” Which wasn’t entirely true. Her body felt as if it had been through a mangle and come out still dripping. Brite had been real enough to her. And what he had done had worked. She had found her way through the pain, one strand at a time, and then she had found the strength to heal herself. A way to concentrate her healing powers upon one spot in her body. A way to push the poison back up to the surface, so that the skin could begin to knit together.
There was no point in trying to convince Flynn any further. She’d never believe unless she went through the same thing. And anyway, Ellie had to admit, she had probably created the man, like a living dream of some sort, to help her make sense of what was happening. Lucid, it had been. Explainable, not really. “Okay, let’s just forget about it. I’m getting better, that’s all that matters. Crisis over. Tell me. What’s happened with tracking down the creature?”
Flynn stared at her as if she’d gone crazy. “Nothing.”
“You didn’t even do a location on it? You had enough material on my leg, surely?”
Flynn glanced at the pile of now decaying fungus on the carpet. “I didn’t … You were so ill.” She slumped back onto her heels. “I’ll do it now.”
It took no time at all to locate the creature. From the vague description they had of it from what they’d seen, it didn’t seem to be on the Overlord’s list, but there was no way they could leave something as dangerous as that on the loose.
Ellie logged onto the Internet, under Flynn’s scowling gaze, and did a quick trawl of her favourite monster-sighting websites. You had to be careful, because so many were fake, but she’d been doing this kind of research for years and knew where to find the truth, if it existed.
There were a few possible sightings. A woman had been badly scratched all across her back — an ugly mess of wounds — and had no memory of how it had happened. A man involved in a car accident had professed that a heat haze on the road was what he crashed into. By the picture that had been taken, it was quite a crash. There were several other less specific sightings that could’ve been related — all in the right area.
No doubt. They had to do something about it.
Its location wasn’t all that far from where they were. It was pretty much where they’d left it, in fact. It seemed to be prowling a specific few streets.
“Is it looking for something?” Flynn said.
Ellie shrugged. “It’s possible. It could be lost. But from where? Another city? Another country? Then, it hit her. “It’s basically a cat, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Sort of. An ugly cat. Not the kind you’d want licking your face.”
“What if it’s looking for its owner? A cat might do that.”
“I thought cats were independent, and who’d want to own that?”
“Who’d want to own a pet lion? People used to do stupid things like that. Probably still do.”
“Really? That is mad.”
“So, who would want to own a creature like that?”
“Someone mean. Hey, you don’t suppose … No, it’s stupid.”
“Go on. Nothing’s too stupid at this stage. Throw it into the pot.”
“Well, it’s a cat.”
“Yes.”
“Cats are often familiars.”
Ellie clicked her fingers. “For witches.”
“Yes. You don’t think …?”
“Malice. Where exactly did you say the others had gone?”
“Down the sewers. Not far from where we saw it. If Rag chased Malice down there, which Bones thinks he did, it might have got left behind.”
Ellie thought for a moment. “What if it’s been wandering the streets since Malice was captured by the Overlord, waiting? That’s a long time.”
“It would explain why it’s such a mess, I suppose.”
“She might not have known where it was, or had time to do anything about it, when Rag started chasing her.”
“Oh my god. Are you trying to make me feel sympathy for it? After what it did to you?”
Ellie smiled weakly. “We all do things we don’t mean when we’re scared. What if it can’t climb down those metal stairs into the sewers? I don’t think even a cat would jump if it couldn’t see the bottom.”
“I think it’s more likely that it wouldn’t want to go down there. I mean, how many animals would enjoy that environment? Of course, there would be plenty of food. Rats and the like.”
“I think it lashed out. It wasn’t hunt
ing us. We just got in the way. We provoked it. That wasn’t a good move.”
Flynn sputtered. “Yeah, you already said. Everyone and every thing, is scared by something.”
Chapter 10
The impure searched every inch of the place for an exit, at Bones’ insistence and under duress, but as the other three had said, there was no way out. No windows. No doors, other than those that were attached to the cells. No vents. No trapdoors. Not even a seam that could be worried until it broke. Hermetically sealed, but not, because there was air. It didn’t make sense.
“Where does the food come from?” Bones asked.
Marchmont tilted his head a little to the side.
It wasn’t the most ridiculous question. If they couldn’t get out, how could anyone get in?
“Why, it is provided by the great provider, of course.”
They were beginning to sound like a cult.
“And who is the great provider?”
“The one who looks after us.”
“Looks after you, how? You’re stuck in here.”
“But we never want for anything. Some would call that luxury.”
Bones bit back the words he wanted to say, and replaced them. “You have nothing. There’s no TV, no radio, no books, no Internet, nothing.”
Marchmont’s head went to the other side. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, he is mad,” Hattie said.
“You have to be mad to live here,” Dorey mumbled.
Bones groaned inwardly. Even if he did get these people out, where on Earth was he going to take them? They couldn’t be let loose on the normal world. The normal world couldn’t be let loose on them.
But no one deserved to be living in a place like this.
“We never know where the food’s going to be,” Dorey added. “We have to go looking when we’re hungry. Which is all the time. It’s never in the same place. It’s a good game. I like it.”
Bones’ mouth gaped. “It appears?”
“It is provided,” Marchmont said. “We do not ask by what means. That would be rude. We are not rude.”
Not that there was anyone to ask.
“Do you suppose it could be magic?”
Marchmont stiffened. “Magic? That’s not real. There is no such thing.”
“Yes, there is,” Dorey said. “You know there is. You—”
“Shush. We don’t talk about that to strangers.”
“But he’s one of us now.”
“Oh, yes. I suppose he is. Yes, magic. What else? It goes without saying. Magic makes the worlds go around, I believe you’ll find.”
Bones wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.
###
Rag placed a muddied hand against the stone wall. His blood deprivation was getting to him. Too much energy expended walking wasn’t going to help when he finally laid eyes on Malice again. He needed to feed. He crouched down, put his hand in amongst the weeds growing there and opened his mind. His senses were still okay. He grabbed something living in only a couple of minutes. Except, the something was a single, paltry mouse. Rats were bigger, there was something to bite into, but a mouse. He contemplated his options for a second, then threw it back onto the ground. It wasn’t worth the effort. There had to be people inside. He would wait.
The building was no house. It was a castle of epic proportions. When he looked up, he could barely see the top, it was so tall, and if he wasn’t mistaken, just above head height, every few stones along, there was attached a decoration of an ornate, blood-red, wooden heart. He reached up and touched one and quickly shied back. It burnt like fire. Strong magic. Some kind of ward, perhaps.
Was this Malice’s property? Or was she just hiding here? Did she have an ally? A protector? Another witch? A coven?
Only one way to find out.
He could find no visible doorway, but with the light so bad, there could’ve been some small lever or button he was missing. He could try climbing up the crevices between the stones, but the nearest window looked like a slit. Like those little holes they used to shoot arrows out of. Used to? There really was no knowing. Arrows could be very dangerous to him. Too risky. He could wait until someone else visited and pounce. He could …
“S-she w-will s-see you n-now.”
Rag spun around. A timid looking man, with very flat-looking features, who kept bowing his head so low it was as if he were offering his neck for the chop, stood behind him, next to a grand entrance, that even a mole would’ve been able to find. He frowned.
“S-she doesn’t l-like to be k-kept waiting.”
Rag put his hands on his hips. He wasn’t going anywhere yet. “Who doesn’t?”
“T-the lady of the h-house.”
“Malice?”
“Oh, n-no. Not M-Malice.”
But no enlightenment as to the owner. The lady.
This was a trap. It had to be, but he needed to do something. Worst case scenario? He’d take the blithering idiot in front of him as a hostage. “Lead the way.”
He followed the man through the doorway and was instantly blinded by gold, so painfully bright, lit by an enormous chandelier, he had to lift a hand to his eyes. Vulnerability coursed through him, but also intrigue. Rich fabrics were draped from the walls, gold and silver seemed to be the favoured metals for everything. A grand staircase that spiralled around into the heights of the building stood proud before him. From beneath it, a very small and timid looking woman stepped out, arms outstretched. Instinctively, he stepped back.
“Thank you for coming.” She beamed a smile as she spoke, but her eyes didn’t match.
“You were expecting me?”
“Well, yes. Weren’t you?”
“I—”
“There’s no time to waste.”
She stormed forward, grabbed his hand and dragged him back the way she’d come, and down some far less grand steps into the basement. For some reason, he didn’t resist. Her hand felt like tingling heat on his skin. Like magic. The aura in the basement made his hackles stand up. It oozed bad. It didn’t smell that good, either.
“That girl’s up to something again. I don’t know what. I’ve lost the sense of her. It’s been so long, you know. So very long. But she didn’t bring light back with her, which I believe was the purpose, according to the note she left. She brought more darkness and danger and ….” She looked him up and down. “I know she’s been to the Overland. She can’t deny it. You can smell it, you know?” She sniffed at him deeply. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend, but you do have an odour that is unpleasant to our olfactories. Enough of that. Even though I didn’t ask for you, I’m glad you’re here. How exactly were you thinking of getting rid of her? Traps? Poison? Cutting off her head?”
“I—”
“Cutting off heads is the most definitive way, I always find, but it isn’t for everyone. If you cut off their heads, sometimes they keep talking. I never go and watch, but I know the scullery maid likes to take her knitting with her. Makes her feel French, apparently. I think she’s been reading too many illegals, but I can’t afford her to loose her head.”
“I—”
“Malice’s accommodation is right down the end of the corridor there.” She took his hand again and patted it. “Good luck. Let’s hope this time we succeed.”
And with that, she scuttled up the stone stairs, slammed the door behind her and locked it.
Chapter 11
Here kitty, kitty. Flynn was speaking to herself, in her head, trying to calm her nerves about tracking something that could do so much damage without being seen. Every hair on her skin was alert. The air around her crackled with tension. It was just scared. Even though she knew that was probably true, she couldn’t accept that it would come quietly.
Ellie was taking a bolder approach. She still limped slightly. Easy prey for a predator. She shouldn’t have been out. What would a second attack do? Kill her? Ellie called out. “We want to help you. We know you’re looking for
Malice, and that she went down the sewers. We’ll help you down, to find her, if that’s what you want.”
If it could understand English, that would leave it in no doubt. Most cats were oblivious to human words.
A couple, clutching arms tightly, pushed past them as quickly as they were able. Yes, she and Ellie did look bad. Lack of sleep. Dishevelled. Behaving suspiciously. Flynn waited until they’d turned the corner. “We should come back later.”
“No. We can’t waste any time. We don’t want this creature attacking any more people.”
They also didn’t want to attract attention to themselves. That wouldn’t be a good thing. Inviting people to question, to search, to discover. Shadow people, that was how they ought to be living their lives. But, no. They wandered around for hours, attracting attention, announcing their presence.
On the stroke of some hour or other, she’d lost count, the church clock a few streets away had boomed out so many times, they got a response. Not the kind of response they were expecting, considering their previous encounter. Something brushed up against Flynn’s leg that she couldn’t see. It scared the hell out of her. She’d heard nothing and she’d been listening hard. She froze, every fibre of her body waiting for it to slash and scythe at her, but all she got was the weight of a smallish body persistently rubbing up against her, like any other feline when it craved comfort, or food. But the smell. That wasn’t normal, or pleasant. It was almost as if it had already been down the sewers.
“Ellie.” Flynn waved her across and then pointed down at her feet. “I think it wants to take us up on the offer.”
Ellie looked down and then back at Flynn, an eyebrow raised.
“It’s there. It’s rubbing up against my leg. Either that, or I’ve got a very bad rash.”
“It’s being friendly?”
“How would I know?”
“Try stroking it.”
“Are you serious? It’s a rabid, mad, slashy thing. Why would I do that?”
“Because it’s trying to make contact with you. If you don’t want to do that, can you pick it up?”