Wolfsbane: 3 (Rebel Angels)

by Gillian Philip

‘The horse.’ Suil jerked a thumb at the window. ‘He’s tracking the horse.’

  I shut my eyes and swore. How could a kelpie control its mind, after all? Why would it bother?

  ‘Lose the horse,’ he said. ‘But go. He’ll still track you, but he won’t find it half so quick or easy.’

  My heart was thrashing as we crept through the main room, past the little box bed where the woman who had been Teallach followed us with blank eyes.

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘We’ll be fine. Can you get rid of the horse now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I honestly didn’t know, because the last thing I wanted to do was get rid of the horse; that was why I’d left its bridle on. I wondered if it would feel my reluctance. It seemed to have an unusual sense of personal loyalty, for a kelpie.

  ‘You need to go where the horse can’t. Come with me.’

  The night was cold and the sky was pale, without a star to be seen. Suil closed the door very quietly behind us and drew in a breath of night, then set off in a crouching run towards the watergate.

  ‘I can’t go back through,’ I whispered as loudly as I dared as I stumbled after him. Hannah was at my heels and behind her I could see the kelpie like a shape of proper night, pitch black against the scoured grey stone of the mountain. Its gigantic hooves resounded horribly loudly, ringing like a warning bell.

  Suil didn’t answer me, but he didn’t stop at the watergate either. Its surface was still and steely in the half-light, undisturbed, and he barely gave it a glance. Beyond it, the stony slope fell away precipitously. At my back I heard Hannah draw in a frightened breath.

  Suil stopped and looked past me at the horse. ‘He can’t come. Tell him.’

  Now that the moment had come to leave it behind, I felt sick with fear and loneliness. I clambered a little way back up the stones and reached for its bridle.

  ‘Eachuisge,’ I said.

  The horse gave me a doubtful look. Its eye swivelled, showing the white, as I unbuckled the throatlash, and its throat rumbled quizzically.

  ‘I need to hide, eachuisge,’ I told it, putting my arms round its muscular neck and pressing my face to its skin. It felt so solid and safe, so warm and full of life and fire.

  Before I could think any harder, I tugged the bridle over its ears; putting its muzzle to my palm, it let the silver bit fall from its mouth. Clumsily, because my hands were shaking, I tugged off the bridle altogether and stepped back. The horse nuzzled my neck, and I hugged its head. ‘Come back when I call you. Please.’

  It tossed its head free of my hold and took a haughty step back, hooves scrabbling loudly on scree. One last long look at Hannah, and it turned swiftly and sprang into a gallop. We watched till it vanished around the shoulder of the hill, and the drumming of its hooves had finally died away into the clear air.

  I felt Hannah’s hesitation when I took her hand, but Suil was already halfway down the rocky slope, leaping from slab to slab, and we couldn’t afford to wait. I tugged her on, and she had no choice but to follow, but her whole body shuddered with relief when the ground levelled out no more than eight or ten metres down.

  The cliff at Suil’s back was in shadow, and the shadow was blacker than it should have been on such a light summer night. Resting his hand on the rock, he pointed, and I saw the slit in the face of the hill.

  ‘There are watergates even the NicNiven doesn’t know,’ he said, low voice echoing. ‘Inside the hill; watch your feet. You’ll come on it very suddenly.’

  ‘Suil,’ I said, ‘I can’t go back. I mean it.’

  ‘You have to, briefly. The tunnel in the hill is in the same position on the other side. There are two gates. When you come out through the first, take the left hand opening of three. Two hundred yards, and there’s the second watergate. Come back to this side through that one. It’ll take you out far away, but you’ll be far from the Wolf too. For a while. Now go.’

  Hannah grabbed his hand. ‘Will you come?’

  Suil and I both looked at her. It was impossible to tell if she was desperate for his protection, or if she was trying to save him.

  ‘Teallach,’ he said simply, a hint of a smile on the slash of his lips.

  He drew his sword and saluted us briefly. Its silver blade glowed, the edge so sharp in the pale half-light it seemed to quiver with its own life. He kept it in his hand as he climbed back up the cliff faster than a spider, and vanished over the lip.

  There was a faint whimpering at my side and it took me a moment to lock onto the source. ‘Hannah?’ I whispered.

  ‘I can’t see. I can’t see.’

  ‘Yes, you can. Open your eyes, there’s light. Honestly.’

  ‘No. I can’t see and I can’t do this.’

  ‘Hannah, if there wasn’t any light, how would I know you’ve got your hands over your eyes?’ Taking her hands in mine, I drew them down, then stroked her cheekbones. ‘Please. It’s not completely dark, I wouldn’t lie. Try.’

  She blinked furiously, rapidly, and at last managed to keep her eyes open. She was still shaking, though.

  ‘Is it the dark?’ I whispered. ‘Or the tunnel?’

  ‘Both. No, the tunnel. The tunnel. Oh, God.’

  ‘Hannah, you’re half-Sithe. You can’t be scared of being underground!’

  Even in the near darkness, I caught the filthy look she gave me. ‘Well I am.’

  I sighed and nodded at the blackness: the left-hand opening of three. Behind us the last ripples we’d made lapped feebly at the edges of the watergate pool, and as we listened it calmed into utter stillness again. ‘Come on. Unless you want to go back and explain yourself to the Wolf.’

  Her fingers found mine. I squeezed them, and pulled so hard she had no choice. She stumbled after me into the tunnel.

  Inside it, the faint phosphorescence of the cave was lost. Here it truly was black, and I hoped vindictively that Hannah recognised the difference. I’d never felt so frantic and afraid about being on my own side of the Veil, and I did not want to be here for long. The beat of my own pulse in my eardrums was so loud, I almost missed the soft hiss in the darkness.

  I halted, frozen.

  And now we really were dead.

  The glimmer of eyelight, tinged with sickly yellow. The slither of feet, the rattle of a muted laugh. Hannah, behind me, doubling over to retch up smoked trout and toast, the sound of it shattering the silence.

  I stepped back, back towards the first watergate. What use would it be? Suil was not watching now, he was back at the cottage with Teallach and the Wolf, talking himself out of trouble. I hoped.

  ‘What a funny place to find a couple of runts.’ The voice was dry and cracked, but I heard a thin tongue flick out to lick thin lips. ‘I think the little girl doesn’t like the dark.’

  ‘’M not little.’ Hannah spat frantically, gagged and retched again.

  ‘Big enough to die.’ It giggled. ‘They’re all big enough to die.’

  I put out an arm to touch the damp icy wall of the cavern. My brain felt as if it was dissolving in panic and I was afraid I might fall. ‘Don’t kill her,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly.’

  No. Don’t be silly. I scratched hard at the side of my head, trying to think straight. Fleetingly I thought of all the times I’d skipped weapons practice. Rather less fleetingly, I thought of the sword my father had tried to give me six months ago.

  Would it kill you to try a little diplomacy?

  ‘Let her go back to the watergate and I’ll last as long as you want me to.’ And let her take her chances with the Wolf.

  ‘Let me think.’ I heard its fingernail scratch the side of its papery scalp in a mocking echo of me. ‘No.’

  I swallowed. ‘If you take me back to Kate,’ I said, ‘you won’t get near me, you know that? You’ll get no fun at all.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that. That’s why I’m not taking you back.’

  A funny relief surged through my bones. At least Kate wouldn’t get me, t
hen. At least we’d have beaten her. Oh please make it quick, then. At least make it quick.

  ‘I want you to know something.’ A chuckle rattled. ‘What I’m about to do, I’m doing for your brother. We like him, you know.’

  I didn’t get to ask him what that meant. There was a strangled screech of fury and terror off to my right. Hannah must have lunged for the creature, but she couldn’t see and she had no idea what the thing was anyway. I saw its eyes swivel, felt the air stir, and she was flung back against the tunnel wall. I heard the cough of breath knocked out of her body. She’s okay. Stunned, is all. Maybe it’ll forget her now, maybe...

  The glinting eyes vanished, and the air went still and silent.

  Then a skeletal arm draped across my shoulders, making me jump. I wondered how much the bite of the blade would hurt. More, if I struggled, but I couldn’t not fight it. I shut my eyes and clenched my fists and waited for my moment. Its face. Go for its face, get its eyes out–

  ‘You know what upsets me most about you people? It’s the condescension. It’s the prejudice.’

  I couldn’t breathe for the thrashing of my heartbeat in my throat.

  ‘You think we’re so straightforward, don’t you? You think we have a one-track mind.’

  ‘You’re a Lammyr, for gods’ sake!’

  It went on as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘You think you’re the only ones with a little sophistication.’ It sighed dramatically, and I could practically hear its eyes rolling in its head.

  Bone-dry lips brushed my earlobe. ‘We can think for ourselves, little boy. We can play the game as well as you or Kate can. And wouldn’t life and death be boring if we were all’ – its thin tongue flicked into my ear – ‘predictable?’

  There was such strength in the wiry things. I’d had no idea. It shoved me to the ground with one hand, and my legs went out from under me like twigs. Gasping, I rolled over, goggling up into the darkness, trying to find its eyes. I wanted to see it coming. I wanted a chance. Just a tiny chance, oh please you gods–

  A soft frightened moan from Hannah, the scrape of her shoe on rock. I tensed, turned, swung back. No other sound but my own high-pitched breathing.

  I scrambled up to crouch on all fours. I held my breath, hard as it was.

  Nothing.

  ‘Hannah?’ I rasped.

  The shuffling sound of her crawling across the rocky ground, and then her body was in my arms and she was almost strangling the life out of me. I managed to dislodge her arm from my throat, but I didn’t let her pull away; I hugged her head against me, tightly.

  ‘I think it’s gone.’ Her voice was barely more than a squeak. ‘It’s gone, Rory. It let us go.’

  SETH

  ‘Now see what you made me do?’ The Wolf shook his head sorrowfully as he quietly closed the cottage door and walked back towards the rowan, rattling the handcuff keys.

  Seth stared at the sky beyond the branches as the Wolf released him, then locked his wrists behind his back again. ‘Was that necessary?’

  ‘Not necessary,’ said the Wolf, ‘but fun. Getting sentimental in your old age, Murlainn? You’re not quite the man I thought you were.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  Seth shut his eyes for a moment. He was more shaken than he wanted the Wolf to know. The Watcher’s death reverberated in his head, grating against his brain. It hurt in all the places he hadn’t been kicked already.

  Suil had only reached his mind out at the last moment, unwilling to die alone, but Seth had barely even given him that much. Only a touch, for a fraction of an instant, while the Wolf was distracted with the killings. Quick as a dragonfly, and then his block was back up, but he’d felt the Watcher’s dying moment ripple up his spine and into the nape of his neck, and he’d been unable to repress a violent shudder.

  The Wolf had seen that shudder, but by then Seth’s block was back up. It was too late for Kilrevin to get into his mind, but the man knew he’d missed a chance. Seth thought he’d probably pay for that later.

  ‘I see you’re on your own.’ He grinned at the Wolf. ‘Missed Rory, did you?’

  ‘If I was in your position, Murlainn? I’d keep my fatuous observations to myself.’ Wiping his bloody fingers on the lining of Conal’s jacket, the Wolf yanked him to his feet. ‘What now, Murlainn? I don’t know where your son’s gone, but he’s on his own now. And he’s lost the horse.’

  ‘That was a smart move. And he’ll find help somewhere else.’

  ‘Without dropping his block?’ The Wolf smirked. ‘And even if he does, is Rory that ruthless? He knows by now that anyone who helps him is a dead man walking.’

  ‘Like you.’ Seth’s hatred momentarily got the better of his common sense. ‘Like you, Kilrevin.’

  The Wolf gazed at him for long penetrating seconds. ‘Maybe I can persuade you to call that son of yours.’ His eyes glittered with visible evil. ‘Or have a lot of fun trying. It’d cheer me up, Murlainn, so stop pushing your luck.’

  Seth looked away, in case the fear that crawled across his scalp, lifting his hair at the roots, was somehow visible in his eyes. ‘Don’t waste your time.’

  ‘Don’t you waste your life, what’s left of it.’ The Wolf pinched his earlobe playfully. ‘Good. We understand each other.’

  Oh, Rory, run, Seth thought dully. Just run.

  HANNAH

  I would sell my soul for one more hour in the dun. One more hour in that warm solid bed with the goosedown quilt. They could tar and feather me if they liked, they could tear my skin off in strips. Just one hour’s sleep afterwards, that was all I asked.

  The other side of the mountains, that’s where Rory said we were. He seemed happy. I didn’t care where we were any more, I was just glad to be far from that second watergate in the depths of the earth. I never wanted to be anywhere but the open air again. Fragments of cloud were caught on the hills and when I looked back over my shoulder, the highest tops were swathed in it. As we made our stumbling way down into the valley, sun slanted between the dark layers of cloud and the forest tops, painting everything gold. Very pretty. I only knew that night was coming on again, and that I wanted to be far away from the hills when it arrived.

  ‘Where are we?’ I mumbled.

  ‘Not far from Tornashee. The Wolf’s gonnae be spitting rivets. He was chasing us west and we’ve gone east. We’ve come out behind him.’ Rory actually giggled.

  ‘No. I mean, are we on the right side of the Veil? I lost count.’

  He gave me a dark look. ‘We’re on the wrong side of the Veil. Which is the right side for now.’

  I rubbed my eyes. ‘Fine. Whatever.’

  Not far was clearly a relative concept. There wasn’t any sign of civilisation; all I knew was that the air was warmer and the midge-clouds were thickening along with the trees and the twilight.

  And then the road was there in front of us, looming out of nowhere, and Rory shoved me back as cars roared past in both directions. When the engine sounds faded he raised his finger to his lips and checked the road; then he seized my hand and pelted across the tarmac. He yanked me after him into the trees beyond the verge, grabbing and shoving me up and over a wire fence so that I could do nothing but climb and drop over. I felt my feet sink in soft squelching grasses, and when I blinked at the half-dark sky, it was almost blotted out by black fir-tops.

  A branch caught my cheek painfully; I shoved it aside with a choice curse.

  ‘Sorry,’ muttered Rory. Somehow he was back in front of me.

  I dodged the next branch just in time, and grabbed it. That made me stagger forward, and suddenly I was up to my knees in freezing water. ‘Yikes.’

  ‘I’d get back from that. You’ll be pulled through. It’s a watergate.’

  Hurriedly I stumbled back, weeds catching at my legs. Right enough, the water felt draggingly heavy even at this depth. I found a flaking stump of rotten wood and sat down, my feet well clear of the water. High up behind me, I heard intermittent traffic on the road.

&n
bsp; Even under the canopy of the trees, there was a sheen of half-light on the little loch’s surface. I could make out rocks, a broken signpost, a wrecked rowing boat half-submerged at the far shore.

  ‘Don’t go near the water,’ Rory told me. ‘I bet Kate’s got guards on all the opposite watergates.’

  ‘She has,’ said a raspy voice.

  I squealed: embarrassing but true. I hadn’t even seen the hut behind us. Now there was a man standing there with his hands in his pockets: a gruesome old tramp wearing a battered hat, a long leather coat and glasses stuck together with sellotape.

  ‘Hi, Gocaman,’ said Rory. ‘I thought she might have.’

  ‘So the last thing you want is to get pulled through. I’ll get it.’

  ‘Get what?’ said Rory suspiciously.

  ‘The gun. Do you think I was born yesterday?’

  Rory’s teeth flashed in the darkness. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Gun?’ I squeaked.

  ‘Nils Laszlo’s. Jed ended up with it.’ Rory shrugged. ‘Long story. No use to Jed on the other side, so he put it back here.’

  ‘You are a dark horse,’ I muttered. ‘I’d no idea you had a plan.’

  ‘I’ve always got a plan.’

  ‘Liar.’

  The deadbeat tramp was wading forward into the reedy fringes of the water, the ripples spreading till they lapped as little waves on the far shore. There was a thin cord wrapped round one of his wrists, and when I followed it back with my eyes I saw the other silky end of it bound round a pine trunk.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t–’ began Rory.

  ‘Not sure, but I’ve a better chance than you,’ growled Gocaman. He tugged on the cord as if making sure of it, then turned and crouched to his waist in the water.

  ‘This bank,’ he muttered. ‘I showed your brother the best place.’

  He was rummaging in the murky water under a small overhang, his face creased with concentration. Suddenly he brightened, and tugged out a plastic parcel smothered in weed and mud.

  He brandished it as he waded ashore, then drew a knife from his belt. Rory tore at the plastic wrapping as the old tramp cut and sawed.