Skulk

by Rosie Best

  “You stole all of this?”

  “What a question to ask a gentleman,” James smirked. He was in one of the corners, doing something with what looked like a box of miscellaneous, unsorted loot. He slipped the black bag off over his head and put it down carefully on top of a glinting pile of rubies. “Of course I did.”

  He came over to the couch, jumped up and sat back on his haunches, his brush swishing happily around his paws.

  I tried to come up with an appropriate expression of stunned appreciation.

  “Dude,” I breathed.

  “Why, thank you,” said James.

  “Do you sell anything?” I asked.

  “Well, you tell me, what’s the point of having it all if I can’t look at it? I sell the ugly pieces, to keep me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed. Other than that, I just like to come here and polish them. You can’t blame me, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “So,” James said. “I can’t help but notice you’ve brought me an enormous sapphire.”

  I clenched my claws around it, protectively. “It’s not really mine. Exactly.”

  “Oh yeah? Who’d you bounce it from?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

  “I don’t want to tell him,” Addie said, turning her head sharply to me. I blinked.

  “Really?”

  “It takes knowledge, right? So the less he knows...”

  “Oh, right. Yeah, she’s right.” I thought James already knew enough for Victoria to have every reason to send her fog after him, if she ever knew that he knew. But Addie was looking at me with huge, puppy-dog eyes and throwing worried glances at James. I supposed it couldn’t hurt to play our cards close to our chests, for the moment.

  “If we tell you, you could die,” Addie said to James. “I’m not kidding, people have died.”

  “Fine,” said James, tossing his head impatiently. “So what do you want from me?”

  “Just to keep it safe,” said Addie. “This is like the safest place in the world, right?”

  James shook his head. “I don’t know about that, love. Maybe the safest place in Bow, but that’s not saying much.”

  “It’ll have to do,” I said. “We can’t keep carrying it around. Someone’s looking for it. Someone really dangerous.”

  “Uh-huh.” James washed behind his ear, over-casually. “And I can’t help also noticing that it’s pretty much the same as the stone Olaye carelessly misplaced. I hear that was a ruby, though.”

  “Did you take the ruby from the Skulk?” I asked.

  “Ooh, blunt. No.” James licked his muzzle. “I prefer at least a bit of a challenge. I knew it was there, I mean Don was keeping it under a rock, for God’s sake.”

  “We want it back. It’s important.”

  “Important, eh? What’s so important?”

  “I said, didn’t I?” Addie growled. “If we tell you, she could come and... it’d be really bad, OK?”

  “All right,” James murmured. “All right, babe. I won’t ask.”

  “You’re sure you didn’t take the Skulk stone?” I pressed.

  “Can’t help you there,” said James, with a flick of his head.

  “But you’ll hide this for us, right?” Addie said. “You remember when you said if I ever needed anything, anything at all, I should ask you?”

  “I pretty much meant cash, sweetie, but sure. I’ll hold onto it. I’ll put it away in a drawer and I won’t let anyone take it but you. How’s that?”

  My gaze wandered over James’ cave and then lighted on Addie. He’d promised her cash, any time she wanted... and she was living under a trailer in the Westway Traveller Park, and she’d never taken him up on it?

  I didn’t get it. Pride could only take you so far, surely? But then, one thing I’d noticed about rich people: they could have dignity by the bucketload, but they were often not big on pride.

  Addie squeezed past me and snuggled up to James, rubbing her muzzle against his. “You’re the tits, Jimmy.”

  “I know,” said James, with another doggy grin, licking the top of Addie’s head affectionately.

  He showed us out, but before we could walk off he called to me.

  “Hey, Meg. Can I have a word?”

  “Don’t talk shit about me,” Addie warned.

  “Never,” James swore, so deadpan that it could only have been sarcasm. Addie stuck out her tongue and trotted away to wait at the end of the alley

  “Look,” James said, “Addie’s telling the truth about people dying, right?”

  “Dying, getting turned into evil pigeons,” I said, a little hysterically. “Yeah.”

  James hesitated for a second. “Well, if you ever want to clue me in on exactly what’s going on and why these things are so important, I’m here.”

  “We’ll be back,” I promised. “It’s Skulk business. And I think that makes it your business, whether you want it to be or not.”

  I thought he’d deny it, but he just nodded.

  “Actually, there’s something else you can help me with,” I said. “Do you know where the other shifters meet? The Cluster and the Horde and the butterfly one?”

  “The Rabble? Kew Gardens, I think. In one of the big greenhouses. Last I heard the Cluster were meeting in a derelict pub in Hammersmith, the Saracen. And the Horde meet up in the abandoned tube station in Aldwych, but – you don’t want to go visiting.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’re not friendly. At all. Trust me on this. And look, this might come under the heading of ‘talking shit’, but take care of Adeola.”

  “I’ll try,” I promised.

  “So, what do you think that sorceress bitch’s deal is?” Addie asked. We’d followed the train tracks down to Limehouse, and now we were looking out over the river at the dark knife-edge of the Shard, slicing through the London skyline.

  “I… I don’t know,” I said. I scratched hard behind my ear with my back paw. “I guess she wants this weapon that Blackwell told me about. The one that got split up into the five stones.”

  “Yeah, but why?” Addie’s nose twitched and she glared down at the reflections of the lights glittering in the river. “Is she a terrorist or what? I mean, what kind of person lives all the way up there and still wants more power?”

  The taller the towers, the more powerful they became, Blackwell had said.

  And even though I knew that, I couldn’t help thinking the Shard was kind of beautiful.

  My Dad helped build that, I thought, with a strange burst of pride. If I ever see him again I’m going to tell him how pretty it is.

  “My mum, for one,” I said. Addie gave me a sharp look. “One of her campaign managers once told me that wanting to be Prime Minister is perfectly sane, but nobody actually gets there without going some flavour of bonkers. It’s like… a slippery slope of bad choices. You make allowances and concessions and deals. You go on Newsnight and kiss babies and pretend to be tough on immigration, or whatever it is everyone wants that week.”

  “How bad do your choices have to be to end up with you killing people for a bunch of magic rocks?” Addie asked.

  “Pretty bad,” I conceded.

  “Well, whatever it is, we’re going to stop it, right? How are we going to get up there?”

  “I don’t think we can, not yet.”

  “What?” Addie snarled. “She’s got your mum and dad. I thought we were going to go and sort her out?”

  “I know,” I said. “I want revenge, believe me, but we have to be smart about it. I’ve got a plan.”

  “So what’s the plan, Princess Smartarse?”

  I was pretty sure it was a rubbish plan. But it was the only one I had.

  “We need help,” I went on. “I need to know more about what’s going on. I’m going to see the other shifters. Blackwell said we had this duty, to look after the stones, and we’ve all forgotten how to keep them safe, and that’s why Victoria could do al
l this. So maybe someone in one of the groups remembers and they’ll help us put it right. Or maybe I can find this metashifter person and they’ll be able to help, somehow. I’ve got to find out.”

  “Meg,” said Addie, shaking her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Your plan is asking random strangers for help? You want to ask the Horde? We’re going to get massacred, I hope you know that.”

  “Actually, just me. You know the rest of the Skulk, right, you know where you can find them?” Addie nodded, slowly. “I want you to go and get them to meet us. I guess... tomorrow night, midnight. Can you do that?”

  “Well, yeah. But, listen, they may technically be our crew, but I’m warning you, they won’t want to climb a massive tower and attack an evil witch just cause you say so.”

  “If she’s got our stone, it’s all of our business. It has to be. Don will help persuade the others, won’t he? I mean, he wants to get it back, right?”

  “I s’pose,” said Addie.

  “Your confidence is overwhelming,” I muttered.

  “I wish.” Addie stood up and brushed against me. “And you’re going to go in the Horde nest all by yourself, yeah?”

  “How can they be scarier than what we’ve seen tonight?”

  Addie shook her head. “You’re nuts, Princess.”

  “Yeah. I know. But you know what, I think I like being nuts.” I gazed out across the rooftops at the Limehouse basin glinting between tall apartment buildings. “I feel OK right now. You know how long it’s been since I felt OK?”

  Addie tilted her head at me and her ears flattened to the sides of her head. I blushed – not that she could see it through the fur, but I felt the heat down the back of my spine.

  “It may be stupid deathwish nuts, but that’s way better than gibbering wreck nuts, right?”

  Addie made a pssht sound between her teeth. “Right. When I left home I didn’t give a toss what happened to me next. I’d got out. I felt invincible. It wore off.”

  “My mum used to lock me in a wardrobe whenever she thought I’d done something wrong,” I said. “Which was a lot of the time.” My voice sounded kind of distant and dreamy – I sounded pretty crazy, even to me. “I should’ve gone mad years ago, it’s pretty liberating actually.”

  Addie stared at me. “A wardrobe, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t think rich people who were going to be Prime Minister did that kind of thing.”

  “I think that’s what she was counting on. She… she wanted me to be perfect, that’s what’s so stupid about it. She wanted me thin and vain and clever, just like her.” I shook myself. “I should hate all this, the shift and the magic. It’s taken my parents. It took Ameera. We weren’t… I mean, we weren’t soulmates or anything, but she… she was my best friend…”

  “Oh,” said Addie softly. “Was she in the school?”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  After a second, I felt a warm weight on my back. Addie’d laid her head on my shoulder.

  I felt her throat vibrate against me as she spoke. “Don’t hate the shift. Hate Victoria.”

  “That’s just it. I love the shift. Love it. And I know I should be afraid, but I’m just glad to have a problem that makes sense. Mum despises me and everything I am for no reason at all, that’s… that’s hard. Evil sorceress wants magic stones, killed my friend, I’ve got to stop her: simple. Got it.”

  Addie pulled away. Her ears twitched and she scratched behind them with one of her back paws. “People are bastards. My dad hit me a lot. There was a lot of Bible stuff. Pray the gay away, y’know, only with more shouting.” I flinched, and then felt horrible about it. “God. I’m sorry.”

  “Ugh. Don’t be. Screw it. It was horrible and I’m a fox now. I’ve got my own place, I’ve got Jimmy. Worst I have to deal with now is Don. I know he’s a bigot, but he’s not a deep down awful person, he’s just a bit of a dick. I’m just saying…” she shook herself. “I’m saying, parents are people and people are bastards.”

  “That is surprisingly insightful.”

  There was an awkward silence. Then she licked my shoulder roughly. “Well, you’re not a bastard and neither am I, so we’re probably doing OK.”

  I head-butted her affectionately in the neck. “Yeah, we’re OK. We’d better get going, if I’m going to sort this mess out before Christmas. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “Tomorrow, midnight, in the Skulk meeting place. I’ll get everyone. Take care of yourself, Bugnuts,” she said, and turned and ran off towards the river.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Saracen squatted on Hammersmith Road with a pawn shop on one side and a porn shop on the other. For a pub it was a thin, cramped-looking building. It had once had glossy black fake-Tudor beams painted on it, but the paint was flaking away. All the windows were shut up, sealed over with those grey metal shutters the council put up to stop people actually using derelict buildings for illicit activities like living. Peeling posters dotted the walls and there was a strong stench of urine and musty sweat around the doorway. I couldn’t pick up any of the skittery spider-scent I’d smelled on Angel through the general funk.

  I hugged the edge of the pavement to the end of the street and slipped down the alley behind the shops. Gravelly dirt crunched under my paws as I made my way past the back doors of the shops, under vans, between towering rubbish bins and in and out of a maze of old bits of fencing. A door creaked open as I passed, throwing a warm spike of yellow light across my face. I froze as a shape moved into the light. It was a human, carrying a large bag that rustled... and then the scent hit me, the most delicious salty, fatty, bready smell, with a far distant echo of slippery, glass-eyed things.

  Fish and chips. My stomach rumbled. I was about to sneak up to the bin, to see if I could break into that bag when the man had dumped it, but then a barking shout broke me out of my trance. The man snatched up a stick and ran at me, slashing it through the air in my direction.

  “Garn! Get out! Vermin!” he yelled. I cringed away, and he stopped coming after me. He put the bag into a plastic wheeley bin and slammed the lid down. I turned tail and ran on along the alley, before he came at me with that stick, and tried to ignore the awakened rumblings in my belly.

  It suddenly occurred to me as I slipped in and out of the shadows that I didn’t know if I’d be able to figure out which of the buildings was the Saracen from the back. The dim brickwork all looked the same and more than one of the buildings had its windows covered over. If it had been a working pub, I probably could’ve picked it out a mile away – but now that I was looking for traces of alcohol, I started finding it in every bin I passed, splashed up against fences and even pooled underneath an old car. The warm tang of it was everywhere. I passed a homeless man, huddled in about four different coats, cuddling a bottle as if it were a child. When he saw me he muttered something in what I thought might be Spanish, but didn’t move to chase me away.

  In the end, it was easy to spot the back door to the Saracen.

  I just followed the smell of death.

  There were metal shutters on the ground floor windows, but not on the door. I peered up at one of the top windows and could just make out that one of the shutters had been pulled away, just a little. That room was where the scent was coming from – a foul tang that was almost sweet, that made my skin creep up and down my spine. It wasn’t the recent, crimson scent of blood, not like at the school. This was something different. A long exhale. Decay.

  I head-butted the door and it shifted a little, enough for me to squeeze through.

  Inside, the darkness settled over me like a warm, mouldy blanket. I sniffed my way forwards, dust clouding up around my paws, scented with years of stale beer, mice... and something fresher, more human.

  A cramped, carpeted stairwell led up to my right, and I hesitated for a second, wondering if I really needed to know. I could draw my own conclusions. The Cluster had been here, and now there was nothing but death.

 
I drew in a deep breath of cool, stale air, and began to slowly climb the twisting stairs.

  Something scuttled away from me in the darkness. I froze, sensing the movement of many-legged things.

  “Hello?” I tried to bark, though it came out as more of a whine. “I’m – I’m from the Skulk. I’m here to see the Cluster. Is anyone there?”

  Silence, except for the faintest sense of vibrating air. I sniffed, and there was a definite scent mixed in among the dust and decay – it wasn’t quite like Angel’s, but it was definitely insectlike.

  I cringed back, imagining a thousand spiders rubbing their legs together, rushing towards me in a tide of skittering, biting things... but nothing happened.

  The black walls loomed over me and I caught my claws on the worn, patchy fabric as I moved forward, following the death-scent to the top of the stairs. It was coming from a gap underneath a door, like invisible wisps of smoke.

  There was a little more light here. A spattering of dim yellow spotlights hit the carpet at the other end of the landing, where a shuttered window would have looked out onto the street.

  There were spiders. Lots of them, hanging in great drooping webs from the ceiling, scuttling along the edge of the carpet. One huge one, its body the size of my paw, picked its way slowly up the wall beside me, putting one thick, hairy leg unhurriedly in front of the others. It was so close I could see its shiny black eyes, like globes full of nothing but void on the top of its head.

  I froze again, but the spiders didn’t seem to care that I was trespassing in their house. This wasn’t the Cluster. They were all just normal spiders, getting on with their spidery business while I caught my breath.

  I followed the path of a tiny black spot, almost so quick and small I couldn’t even make out its legs moving, up the side of the stairs and over something that gleamed and caught my eye. I peered up, sniffing. It was a metal chair, attached to a thin rail that ran down the stairs. I could still taste a faint tang of old electricity, like a ghost haunting the place where it was plugged into the wall.

  This place was never going to pass an accessibility inspection. I wondered who’d felt the need to put in a stairlift.