by Sarah Kleck
I pushed away from him to put a little distance between us so I could look at him. “There’ll only be three of you! That’s way too dangerous.”
“Morgana’s weak. Trust me, there won’t be any problems. Colin and Ian will easily deal with the few damnati she’s gathered.”
Colin grinned, and Ian didn’t exactly seem to mind taking on a few monsters, either.
“What if you can’t find her without my help?” I objected.
“It’s a bunker. You go in at one end, out the other.”
“But . . .” I was running out of arguments.
Jared couldn’t help but grin when he saw he’d won. “See you later,” he said, kissing me. “I love you.”
I stomped off, offended.
“Wait,” Jared called, running after me.
“Take this with you.” With a serious look, he held out the blue dagger I’d taken with me to Avalon. The dagger Karen had thrust into Morgana’s arm to make her bleed. “Just in case.”
“Come.” Gareth took my hand. I reluctantly let him pull me out. Adam followed us.
I sat in the back of the squad car, slammed the door, and sulked. I was fed up with Jared treating me like a child. Most of all, I was fed up with him being right. I was completely useless in the struggle against Morgana—worse still, a burden.
If only I had my magic!
Adam and Gareth were talking excitedly, but I wasn’t listening. A burst of static from the police radio on the dashboard caught our attention.
“There’s somebody on the subway tracks between Holborn and Covent Garden,” a bored-sounding female voice droned.
“A suicide?” a male voice responded on the radio.
“Ah . . . nope,” the woman said, as if looking for a note. “Some guy in a black cloak ran into the tunnel.”
Adam jerked his head around and looked at Gareth. Then he grabbed the mic.
“Detective Sergeant Adam Parker here. Where exactly did this person enter the tunnel?”
“Um . . . Holborn,” the woman answered after a long pause.
“That’s less than five minutes from here,” Gareth mumbled.
“I’m taking over,” Adam radioed back. He turned on the light and siren and stepped on the gas.
Gareth turned to me. “Wait in the car, Evelyn.”
“The devil I will!”
He frowned.
“Then we’ll take you back to the safe house.”
Adam looked at him, then took his foot off the pedal. There’s nothing worse for policemen than having to give up in the middle of a chase. I knew that from Zara. I had their attention now.
“If you take me to Bishop’s Park Road first, it’ll be too late!”
“I will not put you in harm’s way,” Gareth repeated Jared’s words.
“I can defend myself quite well, Gareth. Believe me.”
“It’s true,” Adam confirmed.
“Yes, and it’s only a single damnatus,” I added. “If the three of us can’t handle him, then I don’t know who can.”
Gareth stared intensely at me. Then he clenched his teeth. “All right,” he finally consented. His expression had hardened.
I nodded to show him that he’d made the right decision. “Let’s get him.”
Adam grinned as he sped along Southampton Row.
When we arrived at Holborn station, we had to push our way through a crowd of several dozen people. The entire station had been blocked off. The mood was tense, with some passengers expressing their discontent. Adam went ahead, showing one of the transport policemen his badge. He nodded and let us through, which riled the crowd even more.
“Who’s in charge?” Adam asked.
“The station head,” the transport policeman answered.
“Me,” a short, balding man squeaked behind us. “I notified you.”
“Did anyone see the person?”
“Yes, a conductor said a man with a black hooded cape ran into the tunnel, and the alarm was triggered soon after.”
“How long ago?” Gareth asked.
“About fifteen minutes. I don’t know where he went. Another alarm hasn’t been triggered.”
“So he’s still in the tunnel?”
“I’d assume so!”
“Thank you.” Adam rushed off. Gareth and I followed. We ran along the platform to the southern end, where we dropped to the track level. Then we hurried along the gravely center between the tracks toward the tunnel. It was cooler right away. Gareth and Adam pulled out their flashlights. The tunnel curved, and the world disappeared behind us. It was totally dark in there, but the flashlights were sufficient. A damnatus had been here a quarter of an hour ago. How far could he have gone?
“Wait,” Gareth said. Adam and I froze, straining to hear in the dark.
“I thought I heard something,” Gareth said. “Onward!”
We started running again. Ten minutes later we had still heard nothing in the tunnel. No sign of a damnatus. How long would it take until we emerged at Covent Garden station?
“Wait,” Gareth called, stopping us again.
“What?”
“Shh!”
Something stung my nose. I smelled sulfur. Biting, penetrating, all-pervasive.
“Do you smell that, too?” I quietly asked.
Both nodded. There was a dull thud, then a shuffling sound.
Gareth and Adam pulled their guns, cocked them with clicking sounds, and aimed—each with a flashlight in one hand, weapon in the other. The lights meandered about, searching in the dark tunnel.
Someone laughed. A satisfied, anticipating laugh. Like a spider that caught something in its web. An ice-cold sensation ran down my spine. I suddenly realized this was no damnatus. Whatever was lying in wait in the dark was much worse.
The creature laughed again, this time from the opposite direction. Adam quickly turned, casting his beam on a darkly dressed figure. It moved fast and was gone a second later.
“There!” Gareth called, firing three shots into the dark. It was dead silent for a moment. Did he get him?
Gareth moved ahead, shining the flashlight in the direction he presumed his bullets had gone. Suddenly a face appeared in the beam. It moved, so fast that the eye could barely catch it. A gurgling sound followed. Gareth tilted his head at an odd angle. He sank to his knees, and the flashlight fell from his hand and rolled across the concrete floor.
Oh my God!
Gareth slumped down on the ground. The light beam shone on his face. Blood streamed from his neck—the creature had slashed his throat.
I cried out in horror.
“Run, Evelyn, run!” Adam yelled, firing his gun. I turned and ran for my life. Shots rang throughout the tunnel. Then it was silent.
“Evelyn,” I heard the creature sing. “What a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman.” His voice was high and sinister. He was really close. I reached with a trembling hand for the dagger.
A crunching behind me, then a throaty laugh. I whirled around, turned in all directions.
“Evelyn,” he sang my name again. Fear gnawed at me.
There! Eyes shone in the dark. Then they were gone again. My breathing was shallow and fast, betraying my fear.
“Evelyn.” I heard the frightful voice from another direction. I turned.
“Evelyn.”
He was everywhere.
“Where are you?” Fear made my voice tremble.
A snorting, snuffling noise—he was behind me. I turned, the dagger in my extended hand. Something suddenly struck me on the arm. The dagger fell to the ground with a clank.
“Where are you?” I screamed in naked terror.
The creature laughed, dark and rough.
“Catch me if you can,” it whispered into my ear.
Oh God, he was really close.
I felt his breath, the sulfurous smell of a spirit, on my skin.
“Where are you?” I screamed. “Show yourself!”
Fear paralyzed me, making my voice sound childli
ke.
Suddenly it was silent. All I heard was my rapid, shallow breathing, the panicked pounding of my heart. I was in complete darkness. The tunnel was a forsaken place.
I heard fingers snapping. Saw a spark. A tiny flame, as if from a lighter, danced up and down before my eyes. I followed its movement. Suddenly—his face. Only a few inches away.
“Boo!”
I stumbled back, forgot to breathe, tripped, fell, and remained motionless on the ground. The creature laughed.
“E-ve-lyn,” the cruel voice sang again. He held his face into the glow of the light and bent down over me. I gasped for air. His skin was pale, almost green; his face furrowed; his teeth sharp and pointy. The creature grinned, letting a forked tongue flick out. His eyes were white with tiny pupils. A worn top hat sat on his greasy hair; a ragged tux cloaked his body. I crawled backward. I felt steel under my fingers. Smooth and hard. A . . . blade. The dagger! My hand closed around the handle. I thrust it forward. Thanked God when I felt resistance. I’d struck him.
The creature produced a sharp cry and shrank back, holding his bleeding arm. Then he turned again, distorted his face into a frightful grimace, and pounced. The flame died. I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could and ran off into the dark. Deeper and deeper into the black tunnel. Something gripped my ankle. I fell, hit my chin on the ground, tasted blood. I coughed, spat, and gasped for air. My mouth suddenly felt full. I ran my finger over my teeth. They were all there, but I had bit my tongue—therefore all the blood. My tongue swelled to double its normal size. The hand that had brought me down now grasped my calf, with his other hand at my knee, working its way up my leg. I clutched the dagger with a trembling hand and swung it. I felt that I’d hit him again before I heard his scream. He let go.
Suddenly, the tunnel lit up. Tiny dancing light balls whirled about me. It looked like the cave in Avalon. Was Nimue’s magic returning to me?
The creature clasped both hands over its face. A deep wound gaped in its cheek. The light became brighter, then bundled. Formed into a . . . human shape. Into . . . a woman.
“Ruth?”
“Quick, come here!”
Ruth pulled me up, put her arms around me. The monster charged at me, but then the tunnel was gone.
I was pulled off my feet, and everything around me blurred. There was nothing but light. Blinding, glowing light. I felt soft ground under my feet. I blinked, then opened my eyes. Ruth’s brown curls tickled my nose. She slowly let go. I took a step back and looked around.
“Where are we?”
“Primrose Hill.”
CHAPTER 22
Seen from above, even a pulsating, all-devouring city like London appears strangely peaceful.
Primrose Hill is a two-hundred-foot-high hill, at the north end of Regent’s Park in the Camden Borough, from which one can enjoy an undisturbed view of the city to the southeast and of Belsize Park and Hampstead Heath in the north. A broad expanse, crossed by romantic footpaths and dotted with splendid trees, it seems to watch over the city and its inhabitants. A wonderful place. But right then I was incapable of noticing the beauty surrounding me. I ran about, disturbed, aimless. Grabbed my forehead and tried to control my breathing rhythm and conceive a clear thought.
I almost died down there!
Ruth stood there motionless, watching me.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
She smiled, sad and honest. “I was always near you.”
I was still in too much turmoil to stand still. “What was that thing down in the tunnel?”
“He’s called Old Nick. He’s been living for centuries in the London Underground.”
Gareth! Adam! I broke out in uncontrolled sobbing, sank to my knees, and buried my face in my hands.
Ruth approached me. She squatted beside me and put her arms around my shaking body. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn.”
“Jared,” was my next thought. Crying fits repeatedly shook me.
“He . . . he’s in a bomb shelter under K-King’s Cross. Can you bring him here?” I asked. “P-please, Ruth, look for him. Please!”
“I can’t leave you alone here.”
“Please, Ruth!” I pleaded, then added in a firmer voice: “You owe me that.”
She was silent, seemed touched. “All right,” she finally agreed, “but first I’m taking you to safety.”
Again she put her arms around me, there was light, and I lost the ground under my feet and was pulled into a whirl of brightness. When the light paled, I was back at Bishop’s Park Road in front of Judith’s house.
“Hurry,” I said, as Ruth dissolved into light.
I went into the house, sat on the bed, and waited. Seconds felt like hours.
Finally, I heard steps. I shot from the room to the stairs. The front door burst open and Jared stormed in, climbed the stairs in a few bounds, and took me into his arms. Relief flowed through me. He was all right. Thank God, he was all right.
“Gareth and Adam are dead,” I sobbed.
Jared nodded. Pain also distorted his face. Ruth had told him. I looked over his shoulder to the door. Was she still there?
“She’s gone.” Jared answered my unspoken question, pressing me tightly to him while I desperately tried to stop my tears.
A short while later a car raced up the gravel driveway. There was a tumultuous noise outside the door. A few seconds later, Irvin came in, followed by Colin and Ian. Between them they held a wildly flailing damnatus, whom they furiously attempted to subdue. Colin turned red. I saw him lose control, then ram his fist into the damnatus’s face, knocking him out. The scarface hung limp in Ian’s relentless grip.
“Take him away,” Jared said to Ian, “and keep him alive. I’m not done with him by a long shot.”
Colin hurried up the stairs. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
Jared pulled me tighter into his arms, gave me time.
Then, a long while later, he asked: “What happened down there?”
We sat in the living room. Jared to my right, Colin to the left. Irvin and Ian sat across from us. Judith stood in the doorway, struggling with all her might to keep her composure. I met her chilling hate-filled glare.
I sobbed as I told them what had happened. I had to stop a few times.
“You’re sure it wasn’t a damnatus?” Irvin asked.
“Yes. It was something else. Something far more powerful. For sure.”
“You injured it?”
I nodded. “I got it twice. With this.” I pulled out the blue dagger with dried black blood on it.
Irvin took the weapon from my hand to inspect it. Suddenly, his face showed concern. “What did the creature look like?”
“Hard to say. It was pitch-black down there. I only caught glimpses of him.”
“Try,” Irvin pressed.
I strained to remember. “He was pale, had deep furrows in his face, wore a tuxedo and top hat . . . Ruth had a name for him—Old Nick.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Judith burst out. “You woke the devil.” She clasped her hands over her mouth.
“Judith!” Jared admonished her harshly.
Irvin slumped back into his chair.
I swallowed. “The devil?”
“He has many names,” Irvin said, then paused for a while. “Old Nick is an ancient demon. It was more than lucky that you had the dagger with you. I bet there aren’t many weapons that can injure him.” Again he examined the dagger, looked at it from all sides. “Then it’s true,” he mumbled.
“What’s true?” Colin asked.
Irvin gazed into the distance. “Enid and I were never entirely sure, but it’s said that this blade was forged in dragon fire.”
“Which means?” Colin asked when Irvin failed to continue.
“It means there are very few creatures it can’t hurt. We know only one other weapon that has this power.” Irvin looked at Colin. “Excalibur.”
“Excalibur was forged in dragon fire?”
<
br /> Irvin nodded. “That’s why it’s so mighty. An ancient magic is attached to dragon fire. A magic that worked its way long before the age of humans on Earth.”
Jared nodded. “Primordial magic.”
“Primordial magic?” I repeated.
“A raw, pure, unadulterated form of magic. Mightier than anything one can imagine.” Irvin rubbed his finger over his mouth. “Old Nick is from that age. He, too, masters this primordial magic.”
“You woke the devil,” Judith quietly repeated, again glowering at me. Then she raised her voice and pointed her finger at me. “She has brought nothing but misfortune on us all.” She took a few steps toward me. “Get out. Get out of my house!”
Jared rose and stood in front of me. “It’s not her fault!”
“Oh yes, it is! It has been from the start. Gareth should have killed you when he had the chance. Now he’s dead—because of you!”
“Shut your mouth!” Jared commanded abruptly, but there was no stopping Judith now.
“She has brought nothing but misery upon us, can’t you see?”
Jared’s magic flared up and engulfed him in a gentle golden light. The air around him began to crackle. He stared at Judith. His look was inscrutable.
“I’m removing the protection from this house,” he said. The building shook to its foundations for a moment, and then it was over.
“You can’t do that!” Judith screamed.
“I just did.” Jared turned around to us. “Pack your things. We’re driving back to Oxford.”
“What about the stinker?” Ian asked. “I locked him in the basement.”
“Maybe we should leave him there?” Jared gave Judith a challenging look. Exasperated, she dropped into a chair.
“Stuff him in the boot,” Jared snapped.
CHAPTER 23
As long as I wore Nimue’s amulet, I was safe. But they’d come dangerously close, so close I could clearly feel his magic. Then he’d disappeared, as if swallowed by the Earth. My mood darkened. I didn’t know many creatures who had the power to appear and disappear at will. Light guardians, I thought. Were they allied with the Calmburry boy?
Oh, how I longed to get the light magic back. Without its ability, I was forced to hide here in the darkness until I recovered my strength. Forced to move like a human. To climb up through the dirty hatch every night to find new recruits for my army, only to climb down into the same dirty hole to hide underground at the first light of day.