Dark Embers

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Dark Embers Page 20

by R. L. Giddings


  Macrory said, “I’ve heard worse ideas. This way we get rid of the knife and everyone goes after him. We’d be in the clear.”

  Florian’s whole body tensed at the mention of the knife. Thanks to Macrory, now he knew we had it for sure.

  “I don’t think that handing over the knife is such a good idea. Especially after all we’ve been through to get hold of it.”

  Millie reached across and put her hand on top of mine. “Plus, we need the knife to have any chance of getting Silas back. Isn’t that right.”

  I wasn’t sure that everyone appreciated what Millie meant by ‘getting Silas back’ but I certainly did. It might seem hopeless to everyone else but I still hadn’t given up on it.

  Florian pushed his plate to one side. “The dwarf is right. The Winter Queen must die. By clinging onto power she has abused the rhythms of nature and brought misery to my kinsmen. She refuses to listen to reason. Killing her is the only way of restoring order.”

  Macrory picked up his fork and pointed at Florian. “Does this have anything to do with the Dandelion Tower?”

  Millie said, “I’ve heard about it but what does it do? Is it some kind of clock?”

  “In a way,” Florian said. “But it’s so much more than that. The tower regulates everything in Arcadia. The fear is that Aleena has somehow managed to sabotage it. The chimes of the tower traditionally mark the change-over from the Seelie to the Unseelie Court every ten years. But it has been thirteen years now since Queen Silesia sat on the throne. With the tower out of action that change-over will be delayed indefinitely, leaving Aleena to reign unopposed.”

  All eyes shifted across to Macrory who had picked up his cup.

  “That would explain a lot. The Dandelion Tower was designed and built by Serengal, Arcadia’s greatest engineer. A time-piece so powerful that it could regulate the timing of the seasons and, in so doing, controlled the flow of magic. Magic which – if unchecked – could wreak havoc across the land. Once the tower was completed, Serengal disappeared, never to be seen again. It stands in the main square opposite the palace.”

  “I heard Macmillan talking about this,” I said. “Isn’t it also linked to the weather?”

  “It’s linked to everything: the weather, tides, crops. Before the tower was built the seasons were out of control. The land suffered from winters rivalling your Ice Ages. Millennium long summers so dry that no crop could survive. The building of the tower changed all that.”

  Millie said, “So how does it work?”

  Macrory took a bite of his sausage. “As children, we are told that Arcadia was once split into two rival houses each one dedicated to its own school of magic. They lived peacefully together for long periods of time. Eventually, they quarrelled and a power struggle ensued. This culminated in a bitter civil war in which magic was used to wipe out whole cities and their peoples. Each side seemed intent on the utter destruction of the other.

  The tower utilises both types of magic and was designed to create stability where none had existed before. Its chimes separate time into eras. Each era sees the crown pass from one court to the next. No one knows how it is regulated but it is a system which has proved successful for thousands of years. This way, both sides share the power, with no one having ultimate control. One court rules while the other remains in stasis. The chimes heralds the changes and lead to the smooth running of the kingdom. If Aleena has silenced the chimes then it will be her people who pay the price for her hubris.”

  Macrory turned to regard Florian.

  Florian sighed. “Your dwarf has the nub of it. There were rumours about what she’d done but tampering with the tower would be akin to heresy. Of course, no one would dare question the queen directly. But in the eleventh year of her rein the storms came and people started to voice their fears openly. In the twelfth year, the droughts brought more hardship. The longer it goes on the worse it gets. Anything is possible: earthquakes in the morning and floods in the afternoon. Starvation is rife in the villages. The magical fields, which have been held in check for centuries, now regularly rotate on their axes. The maesters fear that one day, the fields may flip completely.”

  I said, “And what would happen then?”

  Macrory pulled a face. “If the subsequent magical surge was strong enough it could wipe out all life on Arcadia: plants, animals, everything…”

  “But surely the queen must know all this.”

  “Oh, she does, but I don’t think she cares. She’s mad, you see. Quite mad.”

  *

  Edwin had texted Millie saying that the situation had changed and that we were not to return home under any circumstances. We were already being pursued by Cardoza and Salazar’s men but the fact that my mother had been able to breach our security and search the flat, changed everything.

  Technically, nowhere was safe so we ordered more drinks and sat tight. An hour later, Edwin sent another text suggesting that we meet him at Leicester Square. He had something he wanted to show us. I thought at first that he was crazy suggesting we meet in such a crowded location but, on reflection, I could see the logic behind his thinking. The magical community as a whole jealously guards its own secrecy. The idea of casting a spell in public would be viewed by many as the height of crassness.

  The worst insult you could pay a practitioner would be to call him a ‘magician.’ Someone who actively seeks attention.

  It was a lovely, warm spring afternoon. The jackets and coats that people had put on that morning were being discarded as we arrived. The place was awash with tourists. The little park at the heart of the square had been screened off for some kind of Chinese festival. There were a number of young women in colourful dresses posing for photographs.

  At first, we just stood around looking completely out of place but then, when a street puppeteer started setting up his stall, we realised that we had to move.

  There’s a walled garden on the northern edge of the square where people can sit and so, when a large group left, we were quick to take their seats.

  Florian, a veritable giant, dressed from head to foot in leather drew surprisingly little interest, though there was probably a good reason for that. People must have assumed that he was one of the street performers taking a break. Macrory, who was still carrying his staff, could have been his assistant. In short, Leicester Square was the perfect place for us to hide.

  “What are we going to do?” Millie said. “We can’t go home. We’ve got half the magical world on our tail and no one we can turn to for help.”

  “You forgot to mention Salazar?” I said.

  “Salazar,” Florian suddenly perked up. “That old goat. Is he still alive? If I’d known that I’d have hunted him down myself.”

  “I take it that the two of you don’t get along?”

  “Did you think I call him a goat as a compliment?”

  “What’s he done to upset you?”

  “He indulges the queen’s fancies for his own gain. She has many grand schemes and yet all the while her people live in constant fear of destruction. Whole communities are being wiped out and all he can think to do is to encourage her.”

  Millie leaned across, “Edwin’s texted me again. He says he’s here but he can’t find us. I’ll just pop and find him.”

  Macrory went with her leaving me alone with the giant.

  I looked around, overly cautious about being over-heard but I needn’t have bothered. The puppeteer had already started his act, backed up by an extremely loud sound system. Currently, it was blasting out the Captain Pugwash theme while a skeleton armed with a cutlass performed a jig.

  “You told me about the two people who were captured with you. You said that they killed themselves rather than live with the dishonour.”

  “That is correct.”

  “But there were two others who came with you who avoided arrest.”

  He boosted himself up off the wall. “What do you know of them?”

  “I’m sorry to say that they’ve both turne
d up dead.”

  He looked absently across at the group of children gathered around the puppeteer.

  “How did they die?” Florian’s eyes were as black as coals.

  I licked my lips. I felt more than a little nervous about pursuing the topic but I needed to know whether Florian had been involved in their deaths and whether or not I could trust him.

  “One of them was drowned. His body was fished out of the Thames yesterday.”

  “And the other one.”

  It would have been better if Macrory had been there to explain, but I’d started down this road now.

  “I believe his name was Sabien. He was murdered then his body set on fire.”

  He paused for a second. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I’m afraid so. Now who would want to kill a member of the Sidhe? Who would even be capable of such a thing?”

  “Are you asking me?”

  “You were their leader. Were you aware of any threats against you?”

  “Only from your Mr Kinsella. There was no love lost there.”

  “And what about this contact of yours? This Mr Christmas?”

  “You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

  I never saw the punch. He caught me low in the stomach. He must have pulled it at the last second. If he’d have hit me with full force he’d have probably killed me. As it was, he had to hold me up so that I didn’t collapse, the pain was so bad.

  He put his arm around my waist and started leading me eastwards, in the direction of Covent Garden. I was too busy looking for somewhere to be sick.

  As we came to an open –topped bin, I grabbed the rim but he pulled me away.

  “Where are we going?” I pleaded.

  “Wherever it is you’re hiding Sigurdsil.”

  “You didn’t think to just ask?”

  “You would never have given it to me. I saw the look on your face when the dwarf mentioned it. He’s a funny little fellow but he really needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

  I’d stopped walking by this time. Florian had me tucked under his arm so that I bounced along like a rag doll.

  “Please!” I was pulling on the front of his jerkin trying to get his attention. “I need to be…”

  My vomit hit the pavement, spattering over our legs. I thought that Florian was going to drop me but he just hiked me onto his hip and carried me over to a bench.

  He bought a bottle of water from a street vendor and handed it to me along with some napkins.

  “Here, clean yourself up.” He seemed embarrassed.

  As soon as I’d washed my mouth out I began to feel a little better. I took my time cleaning myself with the towels. I needed some time to think.

  “Was it difficult killing your friends? Did they know they were going to die, or did it come as a surprise?”

  “Your friends had me locked up. How could I have killed anyone?”

  “You killed them beforehand, then dumped their bodies knowing that they wouldn’t be discovered until afterwards. Why’d you have to kill them both? Did they not fancy blowing themselves up as part of your plan?”

  “Don’t forget: I nearly died as well.”

  “No you didn’t. You waited until Millie was in the room before you attempted your half hearted suicide attempt. You knew full well that she was going to stop you.”

  He lifted me to my feet.

  “He said that you were nobody’s fool.”

  “Who’s that then: the mysterious Mr Christmas?”

  He pulled me towards him, one massive hand wrapped around my throat.

  “Enough. Now, I’m giving you a choice. Either tell me where you’ve hidden the knife or I snap your neck right here.”

  “It’s back at the flat.”

  “You’re lying,” he started to squeeze. “That other woman already looked.”

  I scanned the crowd for help. Macrory and Millie were nowhere to be seen.

  “Not my flat,” I could feel his fingers digging into my neck. “The flat above us is empty. They’re doing some work on the roof. The landlord gave me a spare set of keys just in case.”

  The truth just spilled out. My only hope was that he believed me.

  With only one hand, he picked me up off the ground, the tendons in my neck straining to take my weight.

  But then he relented, pulled me close and then started off into the crowds.

  Over on my left there was a group of police officers: two women and a man, dressed in reflective uniforms. I desperately wanted to call out to them, to ask them for help, but I knew I couldn’t. They’d be no match for Florian. Even if I did manage to survive, they probably wouldn’t.

  He was dragging me through the pedestrianised precinct but I could see cars on the road running across in front of us. He was looking for a taxi.

  If he managed to get me in the back of a cab then I was done for.

  I needed to distract him.

  “Why are you doing all this?” I said. “What do you hope to achieve by killing the queen?”

  “What your little friend was saying was very close to the truth. By killing the queen, equilibrium will be restored.”

  “But who’ll take her place? This Silesia? The Summer Queen?”

  That seemed to amuse him.

  “Who do you think will take her place? I haven’t risked everything just so that bitch Silesia can have me executed.”

  “But if the two courts don’t switch over, things will only get worse.”

  He looked at me askance. “What do you take me for? Some kind of Eco-Warrior? It’s time to let the men make the decisions for once.”

  A couple of young people were blocking our way. They were facing us, having their photograph taken: Spanish tourists.

  Florian yanked me over to the left, intending to go around them. Only the photographer stepped across into his path, forcing Florian to pull up short.

  The photographer turned around.

  It was Edwin.

  “Do you two want to have a photo together?”

  The camera flashed, startling Florian long enough for me to pull free of him.

  Edwin said, “Rigescunt indutae!”

  Basically, ‘freeze’ in Latin.

  And Florian froze. He was reaching for me with one hand, slightly off-balance, a puzzled look on his face. A real action shot.

  Classy.

  Edwin handed the camera back to the couple and they went off, giving us some strange looks.

  “Edwin,” words failed me. “Thanks. I mean, I think you just …”

  He dismissed me. “Think nothing of it.”

  Then he went and stood directly in front of Florian. Waved a hand right in his face.

  No reaction.

  I was starting to experience a sense of euphoria. I got as close to his face as I could, scrutinising him.

  I said, “You know when people say: ‘I’d love to see the look on his face.’”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I think this is it.”

  I flicked the end of Florian’s nose as hard as I could.

  “How long will it last?”

  “Normally, a good half an hour. But this guy – I’m thinking fifteen minutes.”

  A number of people had stopped to examine the frozen giant. With his leather garments and wild expression, he looked every inch the polished street performer.

  I went and picked up a discarded pizza box then placed it on the pavement in front of him.

  Someone threw in a pound and several coins of various denominations followed. Tempted though we were to stay and watch, we made our way through the growing crowd and went to look for our friends.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “What were you thinking of, leaving it here?” Millie said.

  We were in the garden at the back of our flat. We’d gone around the front way initially but Macrory had told us to keep walking. He’d detected two groups waiting in the street outside, both displaying magical signatures. He’d picked out a white van and a dark b
lue Audi.

  Since we couldn’t go in through the front door, we elected to go around the rear. We went round to the houses which backed onto ours. Like our row, each house had its own garden but unlike ours, they had built-in alleyways which they used to gain access to their bins. The three of us had sneaked down the alleyway adjacent to ours but there was a locked wooden gate at the bottom which Macrory didn’t even attempt to climb.

  That left just me, Millie and Edwin to clamber over into their garden, run down to the fence at the bottom and then into ‘our’ garden. It wasn’t ‘our’ garden at all, of course. It belonged to the couple living in the basement flat: Socha and Kalid. Millie and I had always envied them having somewhere to hang out in the summer and have barbecues.

  It was Socha and Kalid we were looking out for now, trying to determine whether they were still in their flat. They usually went Salsa dancing on a Wednesday. Socha was very keen on Salsa. It would be very embarrassing bumping into them like this so we stood under trees at the bottom of the garden and waited.

  Millie said, “Couldn’t you have left it somewhere more convenient?”

  “I was in a rush. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Edwin said, “Well, the good news is that the bad guys haven’t found it yet.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because if they had they wouldn’t still be watching the flat. We’ve still got time to turn this around.”

  “Do you think?” I was losing track of everything that was going on. “I thought you said that my mother was keen to get the war underway.”

  “She is but she needs more advocates. The Chinese have let her down and she was putting a lot of store in them. Now she’s hoping that the Canadians might come through?”

  “How many actual practitioners? Surely they’re more important.”

  “Just over five hundred so far which isn’t bad. Though she had talked about gathering thousands. That’s just not going to happen.”

  Millie said, “And they’re just going to invade Arcadia. I mean, how is that even possible?”

  Edwin rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask me. They must have some Sidhe defectors willing to help them get across to the other side.”

  “All seems very confused to me.”

 

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