Alchemy, Book Two of the Mercian Trilogy

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Alchemy, Book Two of the Mercian Trilogy Page 19

by K. J. Wignall


  “Not this time,” said Will. “When this starts, move over to the door. Should I lose, get out of that door and bolt it – it will give you a little time. Now stand back.”

  The creature stared at him, trying to decipher what was going on, showing enough intelligence to keep his craving under control, though Will could easily imagine the agonies he had to be in.

  Will said, “Do you have a name?”

  “I am not an animal, as you well know. Why does it concern you?”

  “It’s a common courtesy, in such circumstances, to know the names of those you kill.”

  “A valid point. But then I already know yours.”

  He lunged forward, holding his sword out wide, ready to swing it round towards Will’s head. And in the depth of the creature’s blood-famine, he had failed to notice that his opponent was left-handed. Will stepped nimbly to the right and struck the creature’s neck with such force that the blue light itself exploded across the room, licking round the broken specimen jars before disappearing.

  “He’s here,” said a quiet voice.

  Will crouched down and picked up the sword, still touched with flashes of blue light, and held it out for Marcus to take. Marcus and Eloise hadn’t even moved towards the door, but then Will was surprised himself at the speed with which he’d dispatched the creature.

  He smiled and said, “That was easier than I thought.” He looked at Marcus. “And I agree with Eloise – your skill with a sword is remarkable. You have never been trained?”

  Marcus shrugged. “I didn’t think about what I was doing really. Just instinct, I suppose.”

  “He’s here.”

  They turned back to the third vampire who remained sitting on the floor, ignoring the open door of his cage.

  Will was about to speak when a strange noise tore through the cellar, coming from the room beyond, a sound like metal being wrenched apart. There was a shuddering smash and the ground beneath their feet seemed to shake with the impact. The last of the bottles and jars fell to the floor and shattered. A second crash followed, and dust fell from the ceiling above them.

  They all looked at the door to the neighbouring room, where Marcus had said Asmund’s master might be. Only the vampire in the cage seemed oblivious. A moment later, the door was torn away from its hinges and thrown across the room as if a bomb had been planted behind it.

  As the noise faded, a rustling could be heard in the corridor beyond, and Will could hear the soft fall of footsteps. They stared, all three of them, waiting, knowing that this creature had not been released, but had apparently chosen its moment to break free.

  None of them expected what followed. Asmund’s master, or so it seemed, emerged slowly and with care, as if still getting used to walking after a long confinement. But Asmund’s master was a woman. Will could only assume Asmund had spoken of a master because he hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d served and had been bitten by a woman.

  She was tall, wearing a long, black dress which had gathered dust. Her hair was red and fell in waves down her back. She was ghostly and slender and sternly beautiful. As she emerged, she looked down at the vampire in the cage.

  “He’s here,” he said.

  Her voice when she spoke had the kindly but superior tone of a lady speaking to a loyal servant, “I hear you – hush now.”

  She turned slowly to look across the room and the moment she saw Will she let out a single laugh, exposing gleaming white fangs. She appeared overjoyed and speechless at the sight of him.

  Almost instantly though, she grew concerned and said, “My Lord, you should not have come here. This is the sorcerer’s lair.”

  “The sorcerer is not here, and besides, I do not fear him.”

  She laughed again, beaming with what appeared to be pride.

  “But My Lord, I would have come to you when the time was right.” She closed her eyes for a moment, before saying, “There is much to tell, and much to be done, but first, as is custom, I will accept your offerings with gratitude.”

  Will stared at her in surprise, and only realised too late what it was she thought had been brought as offerings. She reached out a hand and Eloise screamed and flew across the room towards her, falling stunned into her grasp.

  Marcus let out a cry and stepped forward immediately. Will didn’t move, but shouted, “Stop!”

  He had sensed rightly that this woman looked upon him with some degree of awe. She still held Eloise close to her, but she looked at Will as if trying to understand his anger.

  “These people have not been brought as offerings, and I forbid you to treat them as such.”

  The lady smiled sweetly and spoke with a pleasant voice that Will mistrusted.

  “My Lord, I am Elfleda. Was I not his queen? Indeed, I am still his queen, as I will be until your time is come. Do you not think then, My Lord, that it is appropriate to bring me offerings?”

  He recalled the torment this queen – Elfleda, whose name he had not known until now – had inflicted upon Asmund from a distance. He reasoned that it was better to pacify her than to argue with her.

  “That is so, and forgive me Elfleda, but this is Eloise, the girl of whom it is spoken in the prophecies.”

  She smiled again, as if there had been a misunderstanding, and then spoke as sweetly as she said, “Don’t you think I know that?” There was only a fraction of a second in which to act, as she pulled Eloise towards her and opened her mouth to expose her fangs.

  Will leapt forward, but Marcus was already closer and struck with lightning speed towards Elfleda’s neck. Her reaction was even quicker, hurling Eloise aside, her body flying through the air and crashing into the broken shelves. At the same time, Elfleda raised her other arm and Marcus spun and flew into it just as Eloise had.

  It didn’t deter him and still he tried to raise his sword, but she responded with a vicious animal snap, like a dog lashing out, biting his hand and forcing him to drop the sabre. She held him in front of her body like a shield, forcing Will to hold his ground.

  “What misunderstandings,” said Elfleda sweetly, as if truly baffled by the turn of events.

  She was quite calm, but appeared to be trying to think what she should do next. Marcus was in no doubt. Even held immobile, suspended in mid-air, his eyes caught Will’s and looked down towards his other hand where he still held his torch. Will understood his meaning and nodded, preparing himself.

  Marcus turned on the torch and raised it up, shining it back over his shoulder and into Elfleda’s face. The beam hit her eyes and she grimaced as if irritated, but no more than that – she didn’t so much as flinch from the pain. And then she braced her arms where they held Marcus and he screamed for a moment until a terrible cracking noise silenced him.

  It all happened so quickly, Will hardly knew what had happened, but it was soon clear enough. Elfleda threw Marcus’s body at Will’s feet where it lay broken and crumpled. Will needed no superior senses to know that Marcus was dead.

  The queen was furious now as she said, “You have been alone too long, it seems! Your destiny is great, My Lord, but not so great that you may disregard the weight of the history upon your shoulders.” She looked across the room to where Eloise lay, and said, “Now, where were we – offerings, I think.” She raised her hand slowly, ready to repeat the same act of magnetism she’d already performed.

  Will didn’t need to look at Eloise to know she was still alive, albeit unconscious. Nor did he need to look at Marcus, but he glanced down and saw his loyal eyes staring blankly, that ghost of a scar, and he felt hatred welling up inside him. This should not have ended like this. Marcus had been meant for greater things, had seemed part of this just as Eloise had, and yet now he was dead.

  “Elfleda! You will hear me first!”

  He stepped over Marcus’s body and walked slowly towards the queen. She lowered her hand again, leaving Eloise where she was, and looked at Will. For a moment, for all her powers, it seemed as if she was mesmerised by him, puzzled, hurt and c
onfused.

  “My Queen, here is my offering.”

  She smiled, the same sweetly sinister smile, and it stayed on her lips as he drove his sabre with such force into her heart that only the hilt stopped his fist passing into her chest. She looked down then, not so much with surprise, but with the appearance of someone finally understanding a mystery that had long troubled her. She crumpled slowly to her knees, then fell back on to her haunches.

  “My Lord,” she said, but the words fell away in her mouth, as if the strength to speak had vanished too.

  Will looked into her eyes and said quietly, “Why can you people not just help me? Why do you keep forcing me to do this by trying to take from me the one thing I will not relinquish?”

  She stared back, silent.

  “He’s here,” said a voice behind her.

  Will crossed the room to Eloise and held her, helped her to sit up. She had been knocked unconscious, but was coming around now and she mumbled groggily and held the side of her chest.

  “Eloise.”

  “I’m OK,” she said hazily. “I hurt my head, and my ribs, I think. What about …”

  “Marcus is dead.”

  Her eyes focused and she saw the body crumpled on the floor and tried involuntarily to push herself away from it, her legs pushing her back against the broken shelves, horrified that this could have happened in so short a space of time.

  “No, he … but he …”

  Will put his fingers on her lips, calming her, then said, “Stay here for now. There’s something I must do.”

  He walked back and picked up the sabre that Marcus had briefly handled with such promise. Elfleda’s eyes followed him and she looked up weakly as he stood in front of her. She could see the sword in his hand and nodded a little, understanding.

  She spoke, her words barely more than a whisper, “How will you complete your journey if you continue to kill your guides?”

  Will ignored her, positioning himself, focusing his hatred into the sabre in front of him. He looked at her and smiled, and for the last time she smiled back and said, “See, My Lord, this is how you become a king.”

  He swung and the vampire in the cage screamed. The blue light exploded around the room and the sabre that had been in Elfleda’s chest fell to the floor. When Will was able to open his eyes, there was nothing left of her. A woman who had wielded such powers, and yet nothing whatsoever remained.

  He looked across the room where Eloise had managed to get to her feet. She walked forward, carefully, testing herself out. Will went to meet her and held her, needing comfort as much as giving it because he had failed this time, he was certain of it, and Marcus had lost his life needlessly in the process.

  When Eloise finally pulled away from him, tears streamed down her cheeks. He wiped them away and they both turned to look at Marcus’s body. One leg was bent awkwardly underneath him, and though it meant little, Will couldn’t help but go over and straighten it, giving him at least the appearance of someone at peace.

  Will looked at his face again and said, “I meant to ask him and never did, how he got that scar.”

  “He …” Eloise started, but choked on the words and took a deep breath before saying, “He was born with it. He told me the other day. I mean yesterday. He told me yesterday. He was born with it.”

  Will nodded and knelt down and closed Marcus’s eyes.

  Eloise came up behind him. “What do we now, Will?”

  Will stood and gestured at the vampire who was sitting meekly in his cage, rocking back and forth. “We talk to him.”

  A voice came suddenly from the fourth cage, saying, “Oh, he won’t be able to tell you anything.”

  They turned, Will’s grip tightening on the sabre, as a well-dressed, grey-haired man stepped from the previously empty enclosure and into the room.

  29

  The man was unarmed, but looked quite unconcerned as he said, “You know who I am, but for the sake of form, do allow me to introduce myself. My name is Phillip Wyndham.” Will tensed, but Wyndham smiled. “Save your energy, William of Mercia. I’m not so foolish as to be here in person. This is merely an image and I am safely far away.”

  “Why do you wish to destroy me?”

  “Because you’re evil, because everything that will come from you is evil.”

  “That’s a lie,” shouted Eloise.

  “And what would you know? What have you learned in your sixteen years that I have not in several centuries? I showed you the truth and you refused to believe it.” His image looked real, but it appeared to face the wrong way now as it said, “As did poor Marcus. See what you did by bringing him here.”

  Will ignored his comment and walked to the door of the cage in which the vampire sat and said, “Where is Lorcan Labraid?”

  “He won’t answer you,” said Wyndham. “He has been conditioned to tell me where you are.”

  “Then why is he silent now?” It was true – the vampire had not uttered a single word since the death of the queen, and had failed to respond at all to Wyndham’s apparition. Will saw what Wyndham clearly did not. “You are a fool, Wyndham. He was not informing you of anything, he was informing his queen, Elfleda. What vanity of yours to assume that your powers are greater than ours.”

  Wyndham laughed and called out, “Edgar, where is he now?”

  The vampire rocked silently.

  “Edgar, you know what I can do, now where is he?”

  Will allowed a few more moments of silence to pass before he said, “Let that be one small sign of your misplaced arrogance.”

  “Nonsense – he has been unhinged by the evening’s events, but …”

  Edgar looked up at Will and said, “William of Mercia, I have dreamt of this day. I was a nobleman too, though you would hardly believe it to see me now.” If he hadn’t been so astonished, Will would have contradicted him because he was lucid and clear-eyed now and looked strong. “He is right in that I can tell you little – my role was merely … What does it matter. I ask only this: do for me what you did for them.”

  Will shook his head. “There has been too much killing here already.”

  “You would take nothing from me that he has not already stolen.” He looked urgently at Will. “Burn this house, burn it from the cellars to the timbers and he will be weakened.”

  Wyndham shouted, “Edgar, silence!”

  Something happened and Edgar winced and held his head, letting out a little yelp before saying, “His power rests in the objects he has here as much as in his knowledge, I am certain of it. Burn it all.”

  “Edgar!”

  Edgar screamed and held his skull. Whatever punishment Wyndham was inflicting he was doing it remotely, and Will couldn’t help but think of the similarity with the way Elfleda had punished Asmund for disobeying her. It was as if Wyndham had become more than a little like the creatures he detested so violently.

  “Lorcan Labraid, Edgar, where can I find Lorcan Labraid? How can I reach him?”

  Edgar clenched his teeth together, screaming and holding his skull.

  “You have been there, you know it. You know the place. You have been there.” He seemed in terrible agony, struggling to think more than one word at once.

  Will said, “The gate is blocked, Edgar. I need a new gateway.”

  He was still holding his head with his hands, but he shook it, saying, “No, you have been there, you know it …” He let out a piercing scream.

  Will heard Eloise say, “Oh God, Will, you have to do something for him.”

  “We’ll take him away from here, beyond Wyndham’s power.” Even as he said it, he thought through the implications, knowing that Edgar too would need blood.

  Wyndham laughed again, saying, “Nothing is beyond my power.”

  “It is true,” said Edgar between his stifled screams. “It’s inside me. Please …” He screamed again, clutching his skull as if he would tear it apart himself if he could.

  Suddenly Edgar stood, rising to his full height be
fore stepping out of the cage and collapsing on his knees in front of Will. He pulled his shirt apart with both hands, exposing his neck, and looked up at Will. “Burn this house!”

  He screamed again, tearing his shirt and screwing his eyes closed. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Please, I beg of you, allow me to follow my queen.” He kept his teeth clenched as he tried to stifle the scream that followed.

  Will waited no longer, removing Edgar’s head, closing his eyes against the light that burst out of him. Even with his eyes closed, the blue flashed inside them, and he heard the sound of something small falling to the floor.

  When he opened his eyes again, he looked, but Eloise had seen it fall and was first to reach down and pick it up. She held it up for Will to see. He had no idea what it was until she explained.

  “It’s some sort of electronic chip – Wyndham must have implanted it in Edgar’s skull – that’s how he managed to inflict pain on him like that.”

  The sound of slow clapping emerged from the apparition and he said, “Well done, little girl, you’ve learned one of my secrets, but don’t allow Edgar to trick you into thinking I rely on technology alone.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” said Will. “You raise the dead, you who call me evil.”

  “I raise the dead for the sake of good! And have they not come willingly? Yes, because they know what you are.”

  “What is it to you, who I am? Tell me that, Mr Wyndham, what is the nature of your personal vendetta against me?”

  Wyndham smiled, full of malice, as he said, “I could tell you, but I won’t because I see it bothers you and that pleases me.”

  Will nodded, looking around the room, at the position of the lifelike apparition, at the walls and ceiling, then said, “So you can see us now, Mr Wyndham?”

  “That I can.”

  “Then observe me well because the next time you see this face will be when I kill you. Now look upon your house for the last time.”

  Spotlights flashed on around the room, but Will simply took out his dark glasses and put them on. If anything, Eloise probably winced more than he did with the sudden brightness.

 

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