by Marie Browne
There were eight beds, each with matching sheets and blanket. A fire burnt steadily in the basalt fireplace, the soot turning the black stone shiny. The flames, burning through what seemed to be black glass, appeared to be hanging in midair as they flickered and reflected in their own coals; it was an odd sensation.
A thick brown rug had been placed in front of the fire; this was where we all sat to eat. Parity slept on completely oblivious.
‘So what’s the plan?’ Carly asked, staring into the fire. ‘I’m just about to go and have a bath – I don’t want to miss anything.’
‘No plan,’ Belial said. ‘We’ll get ourselves together in the morning and head on out. The sooner we get through the ice lands and down to the Throne Room the better. While we’re running around here, we have absolutely no idea what Metatron’s up to. As soon as we can sort out Graham’s little problem Metatron won’t have any claim on him at all.’ Standing up he indulged in a huge stretch. ‘Shouldn’t take that long actually.’ He yawned and shuddered. ‘We’ve managed to get through Zephaniah’s little set of surprises and if that was the worst that was facing us …’ He yawned again and shook his head obviously trying to keep his eyes open. ‘Maybe this place isn’t as bad as I feared.’ Too tired to say more he just trailed off into silence.
Carly grinned at him as he slumped onto the nearest bed. ‘I need to soak,’ she said. ‘I smell.’ She took a good sniff, wrinkled her nose then, taking a towel from the piles balanced on the crude shelves set around the room, she vanished through a small door. ‘Come on, Una.’ She hoisted the little girl onto her hip and, after sniffing at her and making her giggle, she said, ‘You could do with a good wash as well.’ Within seconds we heard her pumping water from one of the two hand pumps in the bathroom.
‘Helpful,’ Belial muttered, then looked around the room. ‘Farr, can you talk to the dead here?’
There was no answer.
‘Farr?’ We all looked at each other. The necromancer was nowhere to be seen.
‘Well, who saw him last?’ Belial leapt up from the bed infuriated. ‘Joe, you were talking to him just before we got into town.’
I thought back. ‘He was walking beside me when you were dealing with the food.’ I racked my brain, trying to picture our conversation. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t remember. I think that was the last time I saw him … He wasn’t happy about Parity’s change of circumstances and he was certainly preoccupied.’ I shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know.’
Belial ran a hand through his hair and sighed. ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do now,’ he said. ‘Let’s just hope he’s gone into a bar, got very, very drunk, got laid, had all his worldly goods nicked and we find him in the gutter with the rest of the dross in the morning.’
‘Nice,’ Keril murmured.
‘Well, believe me, it’s a damn sight better than any alternative,’ Belial said.
Leaving them all to worry, I stuck my head around the bathroom door.
Carly was padding around in an old T-shirt while rinsing Una’s hair. The little girl sat drowsy and soaked in the tub. As I came in she lifted Una out and wrapped her in a rough but clean towel and began to cuddle her dry. ‘Hey, you,’ she whispered to me. ‘Could you put madam here to bed?’
I nodded and picked Una out of her arms. She hardly weighed more than a small dog.
Just as I was sure Una was asleep on my shoulder she lifted her head, yawned and then looked me in the eye. ‘You’re a bad man,’ she murmured.
I nodded. ‘I never meant to be.’ I whispered at her.
She laughed. ‘I still like you.’ Then, with another huge yawn, she settled her head onto my shoulder and closed her eyes.
I tucked her up in bed and watched as she cuddled her grubby doll and stuck her thumb in her mouth. ‘I like you too,’ I said. She smiled round her thumb and rolled over.
I was woken by Parity screaming at Belial. It was a conversation that had obviously been going on for some time. ‘Well, where will you look?’ She’d been shouting for so long her lips had gone white.
‘Everywhere that we can,’ Belial said, his voice calm but slightly gritty. ‘How about you try looking as well?’
Parity flopped back onto the bed and dropped her face into her hands. ‘I’ve tried and tried, but I don’t see anything any more. There’s been nothing since Lucifer “fixed” me.’
‘Well, that’s just great.’ Belial stood up.
‘He has to be somewhere.’ Her anger had vanished and tears ran down her cheeks. ‘You will look everywhere, won’t you? You have to find him.’
‘We’ll look everywhere we can and if you shut up for five minutes we might actually get out there and start.’ Belial stamped toward the door tapping Keril on the shoulder and beckoning to me as he walked.
Parity shut up.
I groaned and poured myself into some clothes.
Four hours later and we were trying to walk quickly without appearing to run. As we turned down yet another street, I wondered if we’d ever find our way back to the Fat Maggot. A laugh behind me made the hairs on my neck stand to attention.
‘Dead end,’ Keril muttered.
Putting both hands in my pockets I groped for my knuckle-dusters. As usual I felt slightly sick as I put them on. However, this time it was nothing to do with the slick, greasy feel of the old bone; this time there was no way out, I was really going to have to fight. My heart beat faster and prickles of energy ran around my neck and down my back. Slowly I turned to face our laughing pursuers: there were five of them. Even though I didn’t think it was possible, my heart beat just a little faster.
‘Now then, gentlemen.’ One broke away from the pack. His long greasy hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it back with a filthy hand that was only half hidden by the fingerless gloves he wore. He walked forward a couple of paces and smiled, his ulcerated lips pulling away from grey and brown teeth – those four or five that were left clinging to his blackened gums. ‘I think we need you to come along with us.’
Belial laughed. ‘Why would we want to do that?’ he asked. ‘I honestly don’t think you scum know any places where we’d want to even walk past let alone frequent.’
I had a sudden urge to punch Belial rather than the rabble facing us. Why couldn’t he, just for once, keep his mouth shut? I winced as he went on in a bored tone.
‘Just let us pass, keep your grubby mitts to yourself and you might actually end up seeing the end of the day.’ He smiled and leant nonchalantly on the wall.
The men looked at one another. ‘I don’t think they want to come with us,’ one of the other men said as he cracked his knuckles.
Belial laughed. ‘Quick on the uptake as well as good looking.’ He nodded to the guy who was still cracking his knuckles ‘You really shouldn’t do that, it’ll give you rheumatism – then how will you play with yourself?’
The man roared. As he broke into a run towards the smirking ex-angel, Belial sidestepped and ducked, allowing the man to flow like water over his shoulder to land in a crumpled heap behind him.
‘So you’re stupid, ugly and clumsy.’ Belial checked his manicure as he counted off the man’s faults on his fingers then tutted as he found a broken nail. He pulled out a knife and quickly pared the injured nail down to the quick. ‘Whoever hired you lot must really be dragging the bottom of the cess pit, or perhaps he’s as stupid as you.’
All four men ran at us, while the one behind Belial clambered to his feet then, with a leap, hung around Belial’s neck. Forced to deal with two attackers of my own I didn’t see how he handled them. I was, however, quite gratified when one of my assailants was removed by one of Belial’s attackers careering into him. He had obviously been thrown with some force down the alley.
I looked up at the man facing me and wondered where his face stopped and that huge beard began; there was no point going for his throat as I couldn’t see it at all. At my half-hearted right hook, the man laughed and caught my wrist. Bracing myself slightly, I raised my le
ft hand and jabbed him in the stomach and abdomen – a quick three punches.
Winded and surprised he doubled over. His hat came off and fell into the mud; I made sure I stepped on it. Staggering backwards, he stared at me for a moment while he got his breath back. I knew I should have hit him then but I just couldn’t initiate a punch so I stood and waited for him. It didn’t take long; with a grunt he came at me, arms outstretched.
For a moment everything slowed down and I felt completely confident. All my other fights had been staged by Metatron – this was one I’d got into on my own and I was going to come out of it with a smile, even if that smile was missing teeth. I dumped the knuckle-dusters back into my pocket; I didn’t need them and I honestly felt like getting dirty with this one.
I sidestepped as my attacker staggered past then, bringing up my foot, kicked him in the back of the knee. He staggered and fell. I heard the dull wet crack of snapping bone as he hit the floor and winced in sympathy. I couldn’t feel bad for him for very long though. The man with a tombstone maw was heading toward me and he seemed to have lost his sense of humour. Holding his knife in a grip that suggested he knew what he was doing with it, he approached cautiously, one hand out to the side and the knife held loosely in front of his chest.
It was quite a long knife – dirty, of course, and with a wickedly curved blade. I waited for him to make the first move. Eventually, without a sound, he feinted with his empty hand then brought the knife round at throat height in a sweeping motion. It was slightly high and, as I turned my head, I felt the point zip past my cheek. Carrying on the turning motion I spun full circle. He looked quite surprised as my right foot made square contact with his cheekbone.
Laughing, I hooked his ankle with my foot and watched him go down, his old patched coat fluttering as it hit the mud. I reached over and twisted my fist into his long, greasy fringe then smacked the back of his head onto the ground. With the first contact he grunted, the second he moaned – after the third there was no sound and only the whites of his eyes could be seen. The fourth and fifth bash I gave him really served no fighting purpose but I enjoyed them all the same.
‘Nice, but that’s probably enough.’ I spun, and then grinned as Belial studied my handiwork. He looked as though he’d just stepped from the pages of a men’s magazine – calm and serene, with not a hair out of place. I looked down at myself, covered in mud and blood. Obviously, I had a lot to learn.
‘Thanks.’ I had to admit, I did feel rather proud of myself. ‘Where’s Keril?’
Belial jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and laughed. ‘Looting, I think.’
Looking toward the back of the alley, I could see Keril crouched down by one of the unconscious men. He didn’t seem to be going through their pockets and, as I watched, he drifted onto one knee then, so very slowly, fell forward into the mud.
‘Belial, I think he’s hurt.’ I stepped round the surprised demon lord and hurried over to where the Drekavak was huddled. ‘Keril … Keril! Hey, are you hurt?’
The Drekavak winced and pressed a hand to his side. I could see bright blood spilling through and over his scales. ‘Lucky jab,’ he said, then breathed out carefully. ‘Must have had a hidden knife or something sharp.’
‘Can you do anything?’ I looked up at Belial who wasn’t looking so suave any more.
He shook his head. ‘No, that looks deep,’ he said. ‘I could close the skin over the top and heal that but it would just fester. That needs cleaning out – we’d better get him back to the Maggot.’
‘Can I do something about it?’ I took my knife out and cleaned it hastily on my dirty sweatshirt.
Belial’s look became thoughtful. ‘I honestly don’t know,’ he said, ‘but it’s certainly worth a try.’
We gently laid Keril out on Belial’s coat and, taking a deep breath, I was just about to attempt some sort of miracle when Keril reached out and grabbed my arm. ‘Don’t remove a limb or give me two heads, will you.’ He tried to laugh but choked on the blood that was now dribbling from the side of his mouth.
‘Ha, bloody, ha.’ I poked him gently with the tip of the knife. ‘Shut up and let me concentrate.’
He nodded then turned his head away.
I concentrated, not on the wound but on the knife; it was like trying to explain a difficult concept to a cabbage. Every time I managed to latch on to what appeared to be a rudimentary consciousness it would slip away. After five minutes of stern talking, I still didn’t feel I was getting anywhere.
‘Erm, Joe.’ Belial’s voice broke through my reverie and I sighed.
‘What?’ I may have spoken a little more harshly than I intended.
‘Are you going to do something with that before it burns all our bloody eyeballs out?’
I opened my eyes then wished that I hadn’t. The glow from the knife was so bright that, for a moment, I panicked and was tempted to fling it away from me. ‘Argh!’ I yelped. Taking a deep breath, I brought the knife down over the wound in Keril’s side and gently touched the tip to the demon’s bloody scales. Immediately a wash of images assailed me – cut skin, moving blood, something that looked vaguely kidney shaped and other odd bits of tubing and liquids. I didn’t understand what it all meant.
Taking a chance I talked directly to the knife. ‘I can’t make all this out, just fix anything that needs fixing, will you.’ I forced the thought toward the knife and watched as the blue-white glow flowed gently into the prone body.
Keril seemed to light up like a Chinese lantern for a moment or two, but eventually the light faded and he opened his eyes.
Exhausted I sat in the mud next to him. ‘How do you feel?’ I asked.
He sat up and coughed. ‘Like I’ve been run over by a herd of fast-moving caroras.’
‘Well, that makes two of us, and I’m not even sure what caroras are.’ I leant against the wall and put the knife away. ‘Are you all fixed now?’
‘I think so.’ Keril climbed unsteadily to his feet. ‘Oops, maybe not.’ His right leg buckled beneath his weight.
‘Let’s have a look at that.’ Belial stared at a deep cut in Keril’s right leg. ‘This was made by something either cursed or angelic – it’s no wonder Joe couldn’t fix it. We still need to get you to a healer.’
I staggered to my feet. ‘I’m really sorry, Keril, I did try.’
Belial took most of the Drekavak’s weight and spoke to me over his shoulder. ‘Well, you probably saved his life. It’s just a good job this particular weapon only got his leg and wasn’t lodged in his spleen.’
I nodded. ‘Where did that horrible lot get a good weapon from?’
Belial shrugged. Keril was far heavier than he looked.
Hoisting the Drekavak between us we staggered out of the alley. ‘Where the bloody hell are we?’ Belial said.
I shrugged then apologised as Keril grunted – he was still losing a lot of blood. ‘We’ve searched so many streets, I’ve got completely turned around,’ I said. ‘I have no idea how we get back.’
‘Hold him for a moment.’ Belial stepped out from beneath Keril’s arm and walked swiftly around the corner.
‘I’ve got to sit down.’ Keril gasped.
Propping him up by a wall, I ripped off my sweatshirt and T-shirt, replacing the sweatshirt with a shudder as cold wet blood that I knew wasn’t mine touched my skin. I ripped two long strips from my Status Quo T-shirt and rolled the rest of it into a ball.
‘Sorry, mate,’ I warned. ‘I think this is going to hurt.’
Keril gave a quick nod then closed his eyes. He only moaned once as I packed my T-shirt into the wound and then bound it around his upper thigh with the strips. It must have hurt like hell; how he managed to stay awake I’ll never know.
By the time Belial had returned, the makeshift bandage was soaked through and blood was, once again, running freely.
He stared down at the demon who was now fading in and out of consciousness. ‘I’ve found a healers shop.’
Getting to my feet, I
helped Belial get Keril up. ‘How much blood does a Drekavak have?’
‘I don’t bloody know,’ Belial answered waspishly as he looked over his shoulder. ‘But he’s minus most of a gutter full and I can’t see that being good for him, can you?’
‘Well, how far is this healer?’ I gasped. Keril, who was taking very little of his own weight, seemed to be getting heavier by the second.
‘Just around the corner,’ Belial said.
‘So why did it take you so long to find it?’
‘Because I came out of here and went the wrong way.’ Belial winced and hoisted Keril into a higher position on his shoulder. ‘I didn’t see it until I was coming back.’
‘Didn’t you look both ways before crossing the street?’
Keril came round for a moment ‘Will you two just fucking shut up?’ With a small groan he passed out again.
Belial frowned and muttered, ‘We’d better hurry.’
A nicely kept green door was set well back under a deep porch. As we burst through, almost taking it off its hinges, the man standing at the bench looked up startled. Then, with a jerk of his head, he indicated a cot beside the far wall.
He crossed the room in long strides and within seconds was easing off my makeshift bandage with a look of concern. ‘Knife wound?’ he asked without looking up.
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘I didn’t get a look at the weapon.’
He laughed. ‘Bit busy, were you?’
‘Something like that.’
Belial had backed into the shadows and was leaning against the wall watching the healer, his head down and his arms folded.
‘So can you help him?’ I asked.
The tall man nodded. The piercings in his nose, ears and eyebrows and the bright spikes of red and black hair seemed incongruous with his gentle tone and manner. ‘I think so.’ He laid seven crystals in various locations on Keril’s body: one on his forehead, one on his throat then on in a line down his body.
‘What are those?’ I asked.
‘Important.’ He began to hum, then stopped. ‘Do you always ask this many questions? Why don’t you go and sit over near Belial until I’m done here, OK?’