Necropolis

by Wendy Saunders

  The carriage jerked and began to pull away from the platform. They heard a great roar and cheering from the rest of the carriages but the mood in their compartment was somber, not knowing what was going to greet them once they reached Farringdon.

  Elias looked up as his study door swung open and banged loudly. Standing in the doorway dressed in a warm, deep blue winter gown and matching half cape was Eve, her expression determined.

  ‘Going somewhere?’ Elias asked mildly as he sat at his desk surrounded by stacks of paper, his jacket hanging on the coat rack next to the window and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he scratched away with a quill.

  ‘I’m going to help Olivia and Scarlett,’ Eve signed resolutely.

  ‘The devil you are,’ Elias scowled. ‘We’re staying here specifically to keep you safe.’

  ‘No.’

  He may not always understand Eve’s gestures but that one was rather definitive.

  ‘No?’ he repeated.

  ‘No,’ she signed again, ‘they are my friends. I’ve never had friends before, but they care enough to protect me, so I am going to protect them. I’m going with or without you.’

  As she turned to leave, Elias scrambled up from his desk to catch her by the arm before she swept imperiously out of the room.

  ‘Eve,’ he snapped, ‘I know you want to go and help them. Believe me I do too, but it’s too dangerous for you.’

  ‘NO!’ The word escaped her mouth before she could stop it.

  The whole room shook with a visible shock wave, knocking over furniture, sweeping books off shelves, sending a volcano of papers up into the air from the desk to shower down upon them.

  They both froze momentarily as the papers fluttered down around them, their eyes locked on each other and their breathing uneven.

  ‘So that’s what you sound like,’ Elias said quietly, his eyes wide with a mixture of wonder and shock.

  Eve stared at him; her violent aqua eyes wide as she breathed hard. She drew in a deep shaky breath and turned those big eyes on him, her lashes dark and sooty.

  ‘I know you all want to protect me,’ she signed slowly so he could fully understand her, ‘but I’m not a child.’

  His gaze swept over her high full breasts and her tiny waist, and he swallowed. No, she was right, definitely not a child.

  ‘I will not be locked away. I’ve spent my whole life hiding, being afraid of myself, of everyone else. Then I met Olivia and Scarlett… and you. You all treated me like a person, like I mattered, rather than treating me like some idiot half-wit mute.’

  ‘You do matter,’ he replied quietly as his gaze locked on hers.

  ‘Then understand that this is my choice,’ she gestured again. Then drawing in a slow deep breath, she spoke. ‘My choice.’

  This time there was not such a violent reaction. He could feel the ripples of power in the air caused by her beautiful voice. Considering it was only the second time she’d ever spoken in her life, her voice was not croaky, or slurred, it was perfect. Warm and soothing as heated syrup, and sweet as honey. It washed over him in waves.

  He sucked in a deep breath, as he stared at her, considering.

  ‘Damn it,’ he finally swore, ‘Olivia is going to kill me.’

  ‘No, she won’t,’ Eve moved her hands. ‘She can be mad at both of us, but she loves us, so she won’t stay mad for long.’

  Elias growled in reluctant submission as he untangled his jacket from the toppled coat rack on the floor and pulled it on.

  ‘Let’s go then,’ he headed toward the door with Eve grinning behind him, almost skipping to keep up with his long legged, purposeful stride.

  The train pulled into Farringdon Street station, having bypassed Edgeware St, Baker St and Kings Cross, reaching the end of the new line with a loud shrill whistle. The train came to a full stop, jolting abruptly so that they were all jostled in their seats.

  Lucien leaned out of the window and reached down, turning the handle and opening the door. He leapt down easily onto the platform and turned back, offering his hand to help the ladies out of the carriage, as Luthor waited until last.

  The platforms were crowded and noisy, the air filled with chatter and the constant slamming of carriage doors.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen if you would please turn,’ a loud voice rang out.

  Olivia turned to see what was going on, only to be rewarded with a bright flash of light and a plume of smoke rising up, the distinct hot metallic odor of magnesium filling the air.

  Olivia glanced through the crowd and noticed the photographer, holding the flash in one hand and some sort of trigger or button mechanism in the other, with his camera on a tripod in front of him.

  Realizing this was the moment the photograph from the newspaper was taken, Olivia immediately began to search the crowds in front of her, looking for Bower. It was difficult, all the men looked the same from the back with their heads concealed beneath homburgs and bowler hats.

  ‘I can’t see him,’ Olivia grabbed hold of Scarlett’s arm. ‘Can you?’

  Scarlett, having come to exactly the same realization as Olivia, was also scanning the crowds for any sign of Bower.

  ‘There,’ Scarlett pointed urgently.

  Olivia looked through the bustling throng of people and sure enough there was Mr Bower, cutting his way efficiently through the crowd, with his black cane in one hand and a leather bag, which resembled a doctor’s bag, in the other hand.

  ‘Come on, we can’t lose him,’ Olivia darted through the crowd with the others trying to keep up behind her. They passed through into a makeshift hall where great banquet tables were set up, but she ignored them, keeping Bower in her sights.

  It was getting harder; there were too many people closing in front of her like a relentless tide of wide skirts and tall hats. Finally, she rounded a corner and found a dead end, nothing more than a plain brick wall.

  Bower was gone.

  ‘Damn it,’ Olivia swore, turning around as the others caught up with her. ‘I lost him.’

  ‘Not for long I imagine,’ Lucien looked up at the wall. ‘This is the place I was telling you about. This is where Prentice kept disappearing.’

  ‘Ada?’ Olivia turned to the small woman who was standing, staring blankly, as she held on to her giant of a husband.

  Ada glanced around, making a small curious noise in the back of her throat, not exactly a hum, more like a clicking sound.

  ‘There’s a doorway right behind you,’ she told Olivia.

  Olivia turned and once again all she saw was the plain brick wall.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ she nodded, ‘there’s steps leading down.’

  Olivia turned and placed her hand flat against the wall. The moment she did, she felt the throb of magic beneath her palm. Ada was right, this was it. This was the secret entrance.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered to Ada, ‘you don’t need to go any further. You should return to the Cirque where it’s safe.’

  Ada shook her head.

  ‘We have each other’s backs, remember?’ she told her firmly. ‘We ain’t going nowhere love. Besides, you ain’t got a clue what’s going on down there; you may need my Luthor.’

  Luthor stood behind her, towering over her and nodding silently in agreement.

  Olivia smiled softly at the tiny woman. She may have been petite, but she was far from helpless.

  ‘Okay then,’ she reached for her magic, felt it flood her body and ripple along her arm. She felt Manny stir from his sleep, shaking himself awake and materializing on her shoulder. Although he remained invisible, she could feel the comforting weight of him shifting restlessly and kneading his claws against her shoulder.

  The wall in front of her rippled and shimmered.

  ‘Go quickly,’ she told the others, ‘before anyone sees us.’

  Lucien went first, stepping through the apparently solid wall and disappearing, then Luthor went next, guiding his wife carefully altho
ugh it probably wasn’t needed. Scarlett followed, disappearing from view. Giving a quick cursory glance behind her, Olivia slipped through the wall behind them.

  It was like an icy, wet trickling feeling, like walking through a faint waterfall. It was cold and unpleasant. Olivia emerged the other side, in a dimly lit corridor. A few steps ahead of them were stairs that led downward, deeper into the earth.

  ‘They do like to burrow, don’t they?’ Olivia muttered.

  ‘Just like parasites,’ Scarlett observed dryly.

  They set off, into the newest lair of the Veritas, wondering what was going to greet them at the foot of the long descending steps. Creeping through the dim light as quietly as possible they headed downward until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  There before them was a huge ornate stone archway with the Latin words, VERITAS NUNQUAM PERIT, etched deeply into the stone.

  ‘The truth never perishes,’ Olivia translated silently as she turned to Scarlett who rolled her eyes and mimed sticking her finger down her throat and vomiting.

  Olivia’s mouth twitched as they headed through the archway and into a large cavernous room. Set out like a gentleman’s club, it was filled with leather wing back chairs and couches, and small tables.

  There in the middle of the dimly lit room was Mr Bower, sitting quite comfortably in a thick leather chair, his legs crossed and a glass of brandy in one hand. On the table to his left was a lamp, illuminating a small circle around him. The black leather doctor’s bag he’d been carrying through the station also sat on the table beside him and he watched them with appraising eyes.

  ‘Mrs Beckett,’ he called across the room pleasantly, ‘come in, come in and do bring your friends with you.’

  Olivia crossed the room toward him, knowing with a sinking feeling they’d just been played. Still, it wasn’t the first time she’d had to make it up as she went along.

  ‘Mr Bower,’ she replied. ‘I hate to state the obvious, but you don’t seem surprised to see me.’

  ‘I’m not,’ his eyes flickered over her companions. ‘I must confess I am disappointed that you didn’t bring the Siren with you, but then again, now that we know about her it’s only a matter of time.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Olivia’s gaze narrowed dangerously.

  Mr Bower smiled slowly as he sipped from his glass, watching her over the rim before setting it down and reaching into the bag. He lifted out the Hourglass and placed it on the table next to him.

  ‘Is this really what you came for?’ he said smoothly, ‘De Pereda’s Hourglass, because I feel it only fair to warn you, it doesn’t work.’

  ‘For you maybe,’ she replied coolly, ‘but then again you are not magically gifted. You steal magic from others, you’ll never know what it feels like to have true power coursing through your veins. You’re nothing.’

  His eyes flashed and she knew she’d hit a nerve.

  ‘Maybe,’ he replied as he stood slowly, ‘but then again, I have you.’

  ‘You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s about to have his ass handed to him on a plate.’

  ‘You Americans,’ he smirked in amusement, ‘so colorful in your colloquialisms.’

  ‘Give me the Hourglass Bower,’ Olivia told him flatly, ‘or I will take it and when I do, I’m taking your head with it.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he snapped his fingers and the room burst into light.

  It took only a fraction of a second for Olivia to realize they were completely surrounded by at least two dozen men.

  ‘What do you have to say now, Mrs Beckett?’ Bower gloated triumphantly.

  Olivia’s voice was low as her mouth curved. ‘You should’ve brought more men.’

  Her eyes shimmered and turned gold, her skin began to glow, and her dragon burst into flames upon her shoulder, letting out a shrieking battle cry.

  Manny launched himself from her shoulder. Spreading his wings wide as his body pulsed and tripled in size, he banked sharply as he soared the circumference of the room opening his mouth in a roar and bathing the screaming men in bright bursts of flame.

  ‘This is what happens to the Veritas when they cross me,’ she warned him, her eyes burning dangerously.

  Lucien, who was standing at her side, suddenly gave a loud growl, a shockingly animalistic sound and his body began to shift and stretch, his skin burst into bright flames of sapphire blue edged in black and when Olivia turned to look, he was no longer human. He took the form of a huge hound, his head stood at the height of her shoulder, his body powerfully muscled and covered with sleek shiny black fur. His ears pointed straight up, Egyptian like and his teeth, when he peeled his lips back and snarled, were pure white, long and needle pointed. But above all, his whole body was consumed with flame.

  He was stunning to behold.

  Olivia reached out and stroked his head, running her hand down the length of his spine and felt him shiver under her touch, his whole powerful body poised and taut ready for her command. The flames didn’t burn her, how could they? She was a creature of flame too, his mistress, the keeper of the ancient fires. The Queen of Hell.

  ‘What’s the matter Mr Bower,’ she smiled coldly, ‘have you never seen a Hell Hound before?’

  Bower’s eyes widened and he stumbled back. Grasping his cane, he muttered several guttural words and cracked the cane against the ground.

  Suddenly the ground split and up through the crack swarmed dozens of small dark creatures, that scuttled along the ground using their forearms as well as their legs. They almost looked like primates, but they were hairless, some black skinned, some white, some with blotchy skin, a mismatch of the two, and all of them covered in some sort of clay or mud. They shrieked and swarmed the room, attacking anything in their path.

  Luthor thrust Ada behind him, grabbing one of the little pygmy creatures as it climbed up the wall and launched itself toward him. It bit deeply into his shoulder tearing out cloth and flesh. Luthor roared and grabbed it, crushing its head in his powerful hands and tossing its lifeless carcass across the room.

  Scarlett stepped back; even wearing a cumbersome gown she withdrew her staff and flicked it. It extended to full length, the lettering glowing brightly against the silver as she twisted it expertly, slicing one creature in half and decapitating another with ease.

  Lucien surged forward, several of the creatures leaping onto his back and shrieking as his hell fire incinerated them. He bit and snapped at them, killing them at an alarming rate and yet more and more of them swarmed up through the crack in the ground.

  ‘Now Mr Bower,’ Olivia said dangerously, ‘I’d like my Hourglass back.’

  He climbed backward over the chair he’d been lounging in previously, his cane held out in front of him as he began to mutter again.

  She felt a small tentative push of power, but she brushed it aside easily.

  ‘Is that the best you can do?’ she scoffed.

  He raised the cane and tried again, his voice rising.

  This time the push came again, stronger but it tattered and fell away, unable to harm her.

  ‘Mr Bower,’ she said darkly, ‘you aren’t ready to play this game,’ her eyes flashed dangerously. ‘You have no idea who you’re dealing with.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ a new voice intruded, ‘but I do.’

  Olivia watched as a new and familiar figure, dressed in black, stepped in front of Bower, as he scrambled back.

  ‘Jonathan Faraday,’ she replied coolly.

  ‘Olivia West.’

  Her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he replied, ‘I know who you are and what you are,’ his eyes flicked to her dragon who was swirling around the room burning tiny little pygmy creatures to cinders. ‘Your mistake was thinking Mr Bower was bringing me the Hourglass,’ he shook his head, his dark eyes glittering mirthlessly. ‘You were wrong… he was bringing me… you.’

  ‘Well here I am,’ she raised her hands and pulled her fists apart, her bow of
fire bursting into wild flames. ‘Come and get me,’ she dared him brazenly.

  She let loose a bolt of pure black flame, but Faraday simply batted it aside as if it were an annoying fly. She tried again, but he swept it aside. She let loose shot after shot but it was no use, he simply flicked each one aside, leaving scorch marks on the walls either side of him.

  ‘My turn,’ he smiled coldly as he cracked his knuckles.

  He flung his hand out and the punch of raw power had her sliding back on the polished floor several paces. She lost her grip on her bow, the flames petering out and dissipating. Gritting her teeth, she held her hands out and let her own power loose. It collided with his, like two bolts of lightning, sizzling in the air, shaking the room and knocking loose pieces of plaster from the ceiling.

  Suddenly there was a huge plume of purple smoke swirling in the center of the room and as it cleared Elias was standing amidst the carnage.

  ‘It actually worked,’ he laughed in amazement until he realized what was going on around him.

  He grabbed Eve to shove her behind him protectively, but it was too late. Bower having seen them, thrust his cane toward Eve. A tight, binding of rope coiled with tiny white flowers bound itself around her face and lower jaw, tightening painfully around her mouth and stopping her from making a sound.

  Elias yelled in fury and ran, leaping forward and launching himself toward Bower as he hastily raised his cane again. But as Elias’s feet left the ground he swirled in a thin plume of smoke, disappearing and reappearing beside Bower. He grabbed the cane, gripping it tightly and knocking it loose from Bower’s grip. Holding it in both hands, he jabbed one end into Bower’s knee with a sickening crunch. He smashed the other end into his stomach making him bow over and as he did, Elias brought the cane up and cracked him in the face, taking him clean off his feet and sending him toppling backward over a wing back chair.