Skulk of Foxes

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Skulk of Foxes Page 8

by Helen Harper


  As one, the bogles’ heads turned towards me. Their expressions didn’t alter but I suddenly felt the weight of responsibility for Charrie’s death, regardless of how it actually went down on the night or whether I remembered the details. Their friend, their brother, their son, was dead. And it was my fault.

  The lead bogle, who still hadn’t deigned to give us his name, broke away from the group and strode towards me. Before he reached me, he stretched his hands behind his back and, in one swift, fluid movement, drew out a long sharp sword.

  I hissed.

  Morgan moved towards me, as if to barricade the bogle’s advance. ‘We’re not here to fight,’ he said, his tone laced with a dangerous warning of what could be about to ensue.

  ‘I’ve got this,’ I snarled. Bogles weren’t affected by the truce. If this arsebadger tried anything, I’d have him on the ground in a heartbeat. He’d rue the day he’d tried to cross me. His children would rue the day. His grandchildren would…

  The bogle spun the sword deftly in his hands and presented the hilt to me before dropping to his knees. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘From the bottom of our hearts we thank you.’

  I blinked. Er…

  The confusion must have been apparent on both my face and Morgan’s. The bogle smiled slightly, an expression that was tinged with warmth rather than mockery. ‘It is not often that one of your kind respects our ways and acts accordingly,’ he said. ‘You aided Charrie and you aided his family. For that, we shall forever be in your debt.’

  I was still flummoxed. ‘You know I might have killed him, right? I can’t remember because I have this amnesia thing going on, but there’s evidence that suggests I poisoned him. At the very least I dismembered his corpse.’ I frowned at the outstretched sword. Did the bogle want me to do the same to him? ‘That’s a pretty icky thing to do.’

  ‘We know what you did,’ he said. ‘And we know it was at Charrie’s request.’

  I stepped back, forgetting that I was standing at the edge of the lake. Instead of meeting solid ground, my foot found nothing but air – and then water. My arms flailed helplessly as I pitched backwards. Morgan started towards me but the bogle got there first, lunging forward with his sword and snagging it deftly on the side seam of my baggy jeans before bringing me back up to my feet.

  I stared at him. ‘That was a pretty slick move.’

  ‘Duh. I’m a bogle. Sword play is what we do.’ He flashed me a wink. ‘Not bad for a little green man, eh?’

  Not bad at all. I flicked a glance at Morgan. His arms were tightly folded across his chest. He didn’t appear particularly impressed.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said, patting his arm. ‘I know you could have rescued me too. You can do it next time.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘My ego is not that pathetic. Besides, you’re already sopping wet. Another dunk could hardly harm you.’

  The bogle squinted at him. ‘I’ve heard of you, Morganus, although we’ve never met in person. I hadn’t realised that you were so … so…’ He cast around as if searching for the right word.

  ‘Schoolmarmish?’ I suggested.

  The bogle snapped his fingers. ‘Schoolmarmish. Exactly.’

  I smirked. Morgan’s green eyes flashed in my direction. This was kind of fun.

  ‘Let’s get to the point, shall we?’ Morgan snapped. ‘If you know what happened to Charrie, we’d like to hear it. As Maddy said, she has amnesia. She can’t remember any of it. We’re hoping more information will help us with Rubus. He’s—’

  ‘Your brother, yes.’ The bogle nodded. ‘The one who’s trying to bring the darned apocalypse down on our heads.’ He waved a hand up towards the now clear skies. ‘He may be succeeding.’

  I grimaced. Perhaps the least said about the fire rain and the rampaging pink elephants the better.

  ‘My name is Sitri,’ the bogle continued. ‘If you’ll permit me, I’ll take you to Charrie’s family. They can explain everything better than I can. After all, they knew him best.’

  It could have been a trap but we were already outnumbered and I knew that our Fey magic far outstripped anything even an army of bogles could throw at us. ‘Great,’ I said. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  Morgan shot me a look and I shrugged. After all, this was what we had come here for.

  A couple of the younger bogles shuffled their feet, casting nervous glances up at the sky. ‘Don’t worry,’ I called out. ‘I have saved you all from further fireballs.’ Morgan coughed. I pointed at him. ‘He helped out a little bit but I did most of the work.’

  ‘Then,’ Sitri intoned, ‘we are even further in your debt.’ He bowed to add weight to his words, his dark curls flopping over his forehead. Morgan narrowed his eyes even further. Sitri straightened up, all his attention on me. ‘Do you know what caused such a terrible event? We’ve never seen anything like it before.’

  ‘Uh…’ I scratched my head. ‘It’s crazy, right?’ I fudged. Time for a sharp change in subject. ‘Tell me, what exactly is a bogle? I can tell your skin is slightly green but, with my amnesia, I’m afraid I don’t know much more about you.’

  Sitri and the other bogles turned and started leading the way back towards the wood and the small housing estate on the other side of it.

  ‘Well,’ he said, as we walked, ‘we are indigenous to this demesne, not that the humans know it. As far as we can tell, we’ve been here as long as they have. But as our population is considerably smaller, and humans are known to be somewhat … inconsiderate of others who are different, we take considerable pains to keep our existence hidden.’

  ‘But you’re green.’ I didn’t want to be rude but I had to point out the obvious. Their skin wasn’t an emerald green or a deep jade but there was definitely a mossy tinge to it, which was markedly different from both Fey and humankind.

  Sitri smiled. ‘As far as we can tell, we used to be more obviously viridescent.’

  ‘Viri what?’

  ‘Green.’

  Ah. I nodded knowingly. Why the gasbudlikins didn’t he just say green?

  As if reading my thoughts, the bogle leaned in towards me. ‘The PC brigade,’ he confided. ‘Ever since Roswell, we’ve avoided describing ourselves as green.’

  ‘Roswell?’ Morgan muttered. ‘I knew that was a bogle thing.’

  Sitri continued as if he hadn’t spoken. I was finding it rather pleasant to be thought of as the altruistic, important one. It made a change. ‘Evolution affected us as much as the humans. Over the generations there have been changes to our genetic make up. Our skin has lightened, although there are parts, such as our scalps and sexual organs, that still maintain a more viridescent hue.’

  I quirked up an eyebrow. ‘Green balls?’

  The bogle didn’t take offence. ‘The greenest,’ he grinned.

  ‘I’m guessing no human interbreeding then.’

  ‘No. Anyway, we’re not biologically compatible.’

  I tried to imagine how I’d feel if I pulled a bloke in a club and took him home for duvet shenanigans only to discover he possessed a bright green cock, but my mind just wouldn’t go there. Oddly, I suspected that it was because I couldn’t imagine being in bed with anyone other than Morgan rather than because a bogle’s genitals were too strange to contemplate.

  ‘So do you have, like, magical powers?’ I enquired, skipping over a fallen branch.

  ‘We can affect the natural world,’ Sitri said. ‘Although our skills in that regard have diminished along with our viridescence. We can sour milk, make animals go lame, or blight the occasional crop if we’re feeling up to it. Needless to say, it doesn’t happen often. There’s no longer any need for that sort of mischief in this technological world. We usually keep ourselves to ourselves. Or,’ he added grimly, ‘we did until you lot showed up and decided to stay.’

  I twitched. ‘As I understand it, that wasn’t really a conscious decision.’

  ‘Whatever the cause,’ Sitri said darkly, ‘the continued presence of the Fey does not help us.�
� Then he paused. ‘Apart from you, Madrona. You’re different.’

  I glanced at Morgan in glorious triumph although I managed to restrain myself from pumping the air. Unfortunately, he wasn’t paying me any attention. He was focused on keeping himself upright, which was no mean feat given that at least three of the younger bogles appeared intent on getting in his way and tripping him up. They really didn’t like him much.

  We veered right, crossing a small wooden bridge until we were virtually back where we’d started. I glanced around. No one was outside. Considering the scorch marks on the road and pavement, not to mention the smoke rising from various buildings, that wasn’t a huge surprise. Stay inside, little humans. It’s safer for you that way.

  ‘We tried to infiltrate your ranks,’ Sitri told me. ‘But most of you weren’t interested. The only one of us who had any real success was Charrie. He had to do some terrible things to get Rubus to trust him but it was worth it to have the inside track on what he was up to. There have been numerous occasions when Charrie’s insider knowledge helped us to work against the Fey to prevent catastrophes occurring. You,’ he added with an air of desperate sadness, ‘were the only one who truly helped him. You were the only one he trusted.’

  I sniffed. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘even with my amnesia, I know that I am eminently trustworthy. I work for good. I am toiling alone against the forces of darkness.’ I dipped my head slightly. ‘I even have a superhero costume.’

  Rather than look impressed at that particular titbit, Sitri appeared slightly confused. I nudged Morgan. ‘See?’ I told him. ‘I’m the only one Charrie trusted.’

  Morgan angled his body away from the nearest bogle who, I could swear, was trying to jab him surreptitiously in the ribs with a sharpened stick concealed under his sleeve. ‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘Maybe now you can stop castigating yourself for killing him and act like a normal person.’

  ‘Don’t forget dismembering his body,’ I reminded him. ‘I did that too.’ Then I clamped my hand over my mouth and flicked a horrified look at the bogles.

  Sitri simply smiled and the others didn’t so much as flinch. That was odd. I understood that they liked me and I recognised that they all but worshipped the very ground I walked on. That was only to be expected. But surely they should feel slightly concerned about what I’d done to their compatriot.

  My uneasy feeling that we were walking into a trap returned.

  ‘There.’ Sitri pointed ahead. ‘That’s his house.’

  I followed his gaze. Part of me had expected a gloomy castle with turrets and mossy slime dripping down the walls. Instead I was gazing at a small, red-brick terraced house with shiny windows and a neatly trimmed lawn. I nodded. That made sense. They wouldn’t lead us to an obvious place to spring their snare. They were trying to lull us into a false sense of security. Not this Fey. I was the Madhatter; I had eyes in the back of my head.

  Something slammed into my shoulder blades. I spun round, hands raised to attack, just as the offending football bounced away down the street. Morgan laughed loudly although several bogles bellowed.

  ‘Oi! Bally! Stop that!’

  A pint-sized bogle grinned cheekily. ‘Sorry!’

  Judging by the smirk on his face, he wasn’t sorry at all.

  ‘This is Madrona,’ Sitri said sternly.

  Immediately the bogle child blanched. He stared at me, eyes wide and face pale. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, this time without the trace of a grin. In fact, he looked utterly terrified. That was more like it.

  ‘I’ll forgive you,’ I said magnanimously. Then I added, ‘This time.’ I had my limits, after all.

  ‘You shouldn’t be outside,’ Sitri scolded. ‘Goodness knows what might fall from the sky next.’

  ‘The fire’s stopped,’ Bally said in a small voice. ‘It’s safe now. I wanted to see if there were any pink elephants.’ Him and me both.

  Sitri frowned and jerked his head at the house. ‘Go and get your mother. Tell her Madrona wants to speak to her.’

  I felt Morgan bristle slightly. ‘And Morgan,’ I said sunnily.

  ‘Yeah. Him too.’ Sitri shrugged.

  I nudged Morgan. ‘You know what this means?’ I said.

  ‘What?’ he growled.

  ‘You’re now my official sidekick. I’m the hero and you’re the one who holds my cape.’ I arched my eyebrow. ‘Get behind me, Batgirl.’ Morgan frowned so I leaned in and brushed my lips against his cheek. ‘This still might be a trap,’ I whispered.

  He stepped back, folded his arms and nodded, a tiny movement only for me. These bogles might be great at massaging my ego but I wasn’t relaxing yet. Besides, Bally’s football had suspiciously vanished. It could still whack me on the head again at any moment.

  Bally darted forward, pulled open the door and called inside. ‘Mum! She’s here! The Madhatter is here!’

  I shook out my hair and spread my legs, placing my hands on my hips in a classic superhero pose. It also meant that no one could tell that my knees were shaking.

  A moment later, a diminutive bogle woman appeared at the door. Her face was lined, not with age but with worry and pain. I dropped my stance and shuffled forward. Actually, if she wanted to lead me into a dastardly trap, I deserved it.

  She wiped her hands on her apron and stepped onto her doorstep. Her mouth remained downturned but her eyes were smiling. Then she reached forward. While I tensed up, her arms wrapped round me and she pulled me into a tight hug. ‘Madrona,’ she murmured. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’

  This was her evil plan, then: she was going to smother me with warmth so that I drowned in my own guilt. Good plan. ‘We know each other?’ I asked, pulling away.

  ‘I’m Alora. We’ve met a couple of times. And of course, Charrie told me all about you.’ She sighed. ‘Having you around made such a difference to him.’

  I gulped. ‘I don’t remember.’

  Her mouth tweaked up at the corners. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘The memory potion was my idea. It seemed the safest thing to do at the time.’

  My expression gave me away. She smiled slightly and gestured indoors. ‘Come in. I’ll make us some tea and tell you all about it.’ She glanced over my shoulder. ‘You can even bring your…’ She fumbled for the word.

  ‘Sidekick,’ I said. ‘This is my sidekick. You can call him Snail Boy.’

  Morgan rolled his eyes. ‘My name is Morgan.’ He raised his chin an inch. ‘I’m her lover.’

  I blinked. I hadn’t been expecting that. He walked up next to me and took my hand in his, squeezing it. I squeezed back. ‘I prefer Lover Boy to Snail Boy,’ I whispered. Morgan smiled briefly at me.

  Rather than grimacing in the manner of the other bogles, Alora’s expression softened. ‘Really? Charrie told me that you were in love with a Fey called Morgan. I’m so glad you finally got back together again. He said that you talked about him all the time and that you followed him whenever you had the chance. You and Charrie had a spot overlooking the Metropolitan Bar where you’d meet and chat. You’d watch Morgan while you conspired with my husband to take down Rubus.’ She sighed deeply. ‘He really enjoyed those moments.’

  Morgan and I glanced at each other in astonishment. ‘You were stalking me,’ he murmured in a low undertone. ‘You couldn’t keep away from me.’ There was an undisguised gleam of triumph in his emerald eyes.

  I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. ‘I was probably just making sure you weren’t doing anything stupid,’ I said.

  ‘No,’ Alora told us. ‘You just liked watching him and knowing he was alright.’ She smiled again. ‘Now, how about that tea?’

  Morgan’s hand tightened around mine. I resisted the urge to lean against him and nodded at Charrie’s wife. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Let’s do this.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Chen refused to hand over the sphere,’ Alora said, settling into a flowery armchair and sipping her tea. ‘As long as he was alive that wasn’t a problem. A dragon’s hoard is b
ound to that dragon and, despite popular belief, can’t be stolen. Chen could have given it away had he so desired, but there was no chance he would ever do that. Both you and Charrie visited him and made sure that he wouldn’t pass it to Rubus under any circumstances. Apparently Chen deeply regretted creating the sphere in the first place. He’d wanted to use it to pull in items from other demesnes so that he could add to his treasures. When he realised what damage the sphere could cause if it were used, he hid it away.’

  She grimaced. ‘Unfortunately, he also told several people about its existence. Word got back to Rubus and…’ She sighed and lapsed into silence.

  ‘And Rubus would stop at nothing to retrieve it,’ Morgan finished for her grimly. ‘He tried to reason with him. Tried to barter with him. When that didn’t work, he tried to kill him. The old bugger was stronger than even Rubus realised though. In the end, all he had to do was wait Chen out.’

  I ran a hand through my hair, picking at its singed edges. ‘It’s just our bad luck that Chen died of natural causes.’ I paused. ‘And Chen’s, of course.’ I sighed. ‘You’d think he’d have destroyed the thing when he knew what it was capable of.’

  ‘A dragon’s treasure becomes almost part of the dragon itself. To destroy even a small item would have caused him considerable pain. I guess he decided that he wasn’t long for this life and that it wouldn’t really matter to him after he was gone. I can’t say for sure. He’s the only dragon we’ve ever known – I can’t speak for the entire species because I don’t know any others. I’ve never heard of any near here and dragons don’t tend to travel much because it would mean leaving their treasure behind.’

  ‘Such as his treasure was,’ I said, thinking of the hollowed-out shell that was left behind after the fire at Chen’s place. It would have been helpful to know that other dragons were so rare, given Rubus’s glamourised role as Mendax.

  Rubus had been smart to make use of minions such as Charrie from other species. Clearly, the bogles possessed a wealth of knowledge accumulated over generations. As we Fey had only ever spent short periods of time in this demesne there were obviously a lot of secrets, especially concerning non-humans, of which we were unaware.

 

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