Uncanny Kingdom: An Eleven Book Urban Fantasy Collection (Uncanny Kingdom Omnibus 1)

by David Bussell

  I scrambled up onto the platform, my senses on high alert. The place was heavy with background magic, with the music of the Uncanny. The thalang must have called this place home for a long time.

  ‘I’ve got you,’ I told the creature, ‘there’s nowhere left to run to. No one else to kill but me. Now get out here and give it your best shot.’

  I absorbed the magic around me as I moved carefully forward, feeling the power inside of me grow, ready to be unleashed and put an end to this. To actually, finally, do my job and free London of a monster.

  My footsteps echoed around the empty, dead space. I had to resist the urge to unleash everything I had and incinerate all that stood in front of me. I had to see and I had to know; I’d been short-sighted too many times so far.

  ‘Hey, you’re a big scary monster and I’m just a little Familiar. Surely you’re not that much of a coward? Wouldn’t you like to taste the soul of a Familiar?’

  Movement to my right—

  I whirled round, fists up—

  The little girl stepped out of the shadows.

  ‘Do you really want to hurt me, Miss? I’m only a little girl.’

  ‘You’re an ancient monster, probably hundreds of years old. If you think that disguise is going to stop me making your head pop like a balloon, you’re very much mistaken.’

  I raised my right fist and magic rippled around it like fire—

  —then I stopped.

  Why was the thing standing there, right in front of me? Why would it willingly emerge from its hiding place and make itself such an easy target?

  Because it was trying to keep me from looking elsewhere.

  I ducked and leapt to the right as something hurtled past me from behind. As it passed, it glanced my left side and sent me corkscrewing into the wall. Arms and legs flailing, I righted myself to see a second creature stood next to the first. This one wasn’t pretending to be anything other than what it was: a nightmare beast.

  ‘I was almost stupid enough for you again,’ I said, panting. I felt the cold of the wall pressing against my back; nothing would sneak up on me again. If they wanted to attack, they’d have to come at me head on.

  ‘She is very stupid,’ said the little girl. ‘I’ve killed lots and lots today, and all the while she stood and watched like a complete moron.’

  ‘Ah, you were right,’ replied the other monster. ‘She is as fresh as they come.’

  I didn’t like how this was starting to sound. ‘What do you mean, “you were right”?’ I asked.

  ‘Well,’ came a third voice, as another of the creatures twitched out of the shadows, ‘why do you think we made it so easy for you to follow?’

  ‘Because,’ said a fourth voice, ‘we wanted you.’

  I was breathing heavy now, my body trembling with fear and adrenaline.

  ‘You are the talk of London. The new Familiar for the witches of the London Coven, sent out into the world for the very first time.’

  ‘So fresh.’

  ‘So alive.’

  ‘So vital.’

  ‘Had to have you.’

  ‘Had to.’

  ‘Really had to!’

  ‘So tired and bored of feeding on normals and boring Uncanny’s.’

  ‘We want a fresh taste.’

  ‘Your spark, your sparkling soul, so new and brimming with power and possibility, unsullied by time, age, and experience, why… a thing like us could feast in toe-curling ecstasy on your spark for decades.’

  The four creatures stood together now, looking at me with fierce hunger.

  I put up my fists, jaw clenched.

  The creatures began to meld together. To flow into each other until they became one writhing mass, scraping across the floor towards me.

  I hadn’t found this place by chance. I’d been left a trail of breadcrumbs to follow.

  And now the trap had been sprung.

  8

  A tentacle erupted from the combined pile of grey, wet flesh in front of me.

  I ducked to one side just as the wall where my head had been exploded, showering me with shards of mortar.

  I rolled over and tried to hop back onto my feet, only to feel a tentacle wrap itself around my ankle and begin to drag me towards the beast. I looked on in horror as mouths tore into life all over the wet flesh, teeth chattering, desperate to chew me up.

  I screamed so hard I tasted blood as I threw everything I had in me out of my right hand. It erupted in a boiling torrent, but I’d been acting in blind terror, too scared to think or aim. The magic went wide and missed the main body of the thing.

  Luck was on my side though, and the magic managed to connect with part of the tentacle, slicing it in two.

  The creature shrieked and as the severed limb convulsed before it, spewing a geyser of black blood, coating the station and myself.

  I tried to pull the surrounding magic into me again, ready to go on the offensive, only to see fresh tentacles shooting from the creature, grasping me by the wrists and hauling me from the floor.

  I pulled and kicked, but the thing had me tight.

  The power inside me was ready, but my hands were held above my head. I had no way of directing the energy towards the thing.

  The images of the police officer, the train passengers, flashed one by one in my mind to the rhythm of my heartbeat. Was this it? Was this the best I could do for them? This pathetic scuffle?

  The creature lifted me above the main bulk of its disgusting frame as a fresh, giant mouth tore open below me.

  My hands were still pointing to the heavens.

  I had one chance.

  Power shot from my hands and into the ceiling, causing the roof to crack apart. Head-sized chunks rained down onto the beast, causing it to scream as heavy rocks pummelled its body.

  The tentacles reflexively released, letting me to tumble to the floor, ankles jarring, as it rolled out of the way of the collapsing roof.

  It flopped over onto the train tracks and I followed, a giant piece of ceiling missing me by inches as I tumbled off the platform and landed heavily below.

  No time to count my injuries.

  I hauled myself up, already drawing fresh magic into me, my fists ready, as the creature whipped around.

  ‘This is for everyone I couldn’t protect tonight.’ I punched my right fist forward, then my left, then my right, a fresh eruption of magic arcing towards the beast with each thrust.

  The creature screamed from its many mouths, tentacles twitching, as each ball of power struck home and left a fresh wound.

  It turned to the blackness of the tunnel and tried to escape.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ I screamed.

  The creature may have been large and ungainly, but it moved like lightning. I could already tell it was pulling away from me as I sprinted on behind, throwing fresh volleys of power in its direction as I went.

  If this carried on I knew it would escape. It would pull too far ahead, reach another platform—a working platform—and by the time I caught up it would have assumed a new form, blended in and vanished. It could escape and carry on what it was doing. Wary of taking me on again, perhaps, but still cutting a swathe through the city. Who knew how many more it would murder before I caught up with it again weeks, months, or even years from now?

  The tunnel forked in two and the creature headed left. It knew this system, knew where it was going. An escape point was close.

  I wracked my brain for my magical inventory. If I hadn’t been so new, the right spell would have come to me immediately, but it took the sound of an approaching train for me to find it.

  The train was heading towards us. A battering ram, a giant bullet, a man-made solution.

  I reached high and pulled the surrounding magic into me, then punched out my right fist, power arcing from my knuckles in a great, livid yellow rope that struck the beast and brought it to a quivering halt. It roared and raged as it tried to move forward, but it was no use. The spell had bonded the cre
ature’s flesh to the metal of the tracks and would continue to do so for as long as I could keep the spell active.

  The creature pulled at the tracks. It was strong, but I was stronger. I soaked in wave after wave of magic, directing it through myself and out again into the spell, keeping it fed and alive. The creature could scream and fight all it liked, but the spell would not break.

  It still wasn’t enough.

  The monster was large and solid; it would cause carnage as the train ploughed into it. Crumple it like a concertina, turning the passengers inside into paste.

  I had to add a second spell into the mix.

  Two spells simultaneously wasn’t something I was even sure I was strong enough to pull off. The witches, my masters? They could do that and more, but I was a lowly, new born Familiar. Could I really contain and direct two spells like this?

  What choice did I have?

  I had to.

  I would.

  I focussed on the new spell, jaw clenched so hard I thought I might grind my teeth to dust. The new spell began to slide into place in my mind alongside the first.

  I unleashed it.

  The spell struck home, the monster screeching anew as it felt itself being changed. I was making it weak. Soft. Soft enough that a train could hurtle into it without damaging anyone aside.

  I was shaking as though I was having a fit, blood rolling from my nostrils, my eye sockets, my ears—

  I could feel my heart jack-hammering, ready to explode—

  I couldn’t do it—

  I couldn’t—

  I think I heard myself screaming, but it didn’t sound like me, it sounded like a wounded animal.

  Where was the train?

  Where was the train?

  No—

  Too much—

  Taking too long—

  The world turning white—

  I couldn’t hold on.

  Had to—

  Couldn’t—

  It was killing me—

  Killing me—

  Killing me.

  I might not be a person. Not like other people who walked the streets and travelled these underground train lines. But I had a life. A new, fresh, wonderful life that was all mine and I wasn’t ready to let it go so soon.

  I didn’t want to die, not yet, not there.

  The two spells were tearing me apart.

  How much longer?

  I couldn’t hold them both.

  It was going to die.

  I wanted to live and—

  I was dimly aware of a roaring noise—the train?—and of light momentarily bathing the monster before a blur burst through it. The beast exploded into a thousand wet pieces like a bug on a windshield.

  As the train carried on its journey I collapsed to the dirt, exhausted and trembling, finally allowing the two spells to die as the creature's blood soaked into my skin.

  No time. No time to rest.

  I dragged myself forward, knees and elbows and twitching fingers pushing me towards the site of impact. I had to be sure, had to know nothing of the thing had survived.

  But the softening spell had done its trick. None of the four thalangs that had made up the giant beast remained. All that was left was goo and gore.

  The creature was dead.

  The job was done.

  I’d have hooted with joy if I hadn’t felt like I was about to black out.

  I somehow clambered to my feet though.

  Stumbled on, looking for a way out.

  9

  ‘Oh, there she is. You win ten bob.’

  I staggered into the main chamber of the London Coven, my home, to see my creators, my three witches, sat in rocking chairs, knitting.

  Kala, Trin, & Feal.

  To look at them you wouldn’t know they, combined, were perhaps the most powerful creatures in the whole of the Uncanny Kingdom.

  ‘We thought you’d bought the big one, dear,’ said Kala.

  ‘You were betting on whether I lived or died?’ I replied, too tired, too shaken, to say anything besides the first thing that came into my head.

  ‘Don’t take it to heart, love,’ said Trin. ‘These two bet on everything.’

  ‘We’re very glad you’re alive.’

  ‘Great,’ I said as I stumbled slowly to the door, longing for my bed.

  ‘How was your first day?’ asked Feal.

  ‘Awful,’ I replied, curtly.

  The three nodded.

  ‘Well, it won’t always be that pleasant.’

  I snorted.

  ‘I take it the matter is dealt with? The thalang dead?’

  ‘Yes, it’s dead.’ I stopped and turned to them. ‘But I made mistakes. A lot of stupid mistakes. People died.’

  ‘They will do that from time to time.’

  ‘A terrible thing, but it can’t always be helped.’

  I closed my eyes, saw the police officer, the passengers, felt a fist of anger clench in my stomach.

  ‘They didn’t deserve to die!’ My witches looked at me, a little taken aback. ‘They were just going about their business, living their lives, then in I stumble and that’s all gone.’

  Trin put down her ball of yarn and stood, walking towards me. For a moment I wondered if she was about to mete out punishment. Shout at me at least. Maybe undo my very existence. Instead, she rested a hand gently on my shoulder and smiled, sadly.

  ‘All you can do, and all we can expect, is that you learn and try your best.’

  ‘Without us, without you, things would be so much worse,’ said Kala.

  ‘Oh, so much.’

  ‘We are all that stands between order and chaos in London. But that doesn’t mean we can save everyone.’

  ‘She’s right, love,’ said Feal. ‘It just means we try our best to. Because that’s our job. And now that’s your job too.’

  I bowed my head for a moment, then looked up again: ‘The death. Losing people. Do you ever get used to it?’

  ‘Do you want to?’ asked Trin.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good. Then don’t.’

  Trin turned from me and made her way back to her knitting. ‘Now go and get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another work day, you know. We don’t get time off.’

  I nodded and shuffled into the corridor, finding my way to my room with my eyes already half-closed.

  This is what my life was. What I was created for.

  To help.

  To protect.

  To destroy evil.

  Maybe I wasn’t a real person, but the thing that I was? That was going to have to be good enough.

  I couldn’t save everyone—I was going to have to get used to that—but I would always try my best.

  My head hit the pillow and the world began to go quiet.

  Day one, done.

  I had a feeling that things were only going to get harder.

  But I would learn.

  And I would get better.

  As my eyes closed and sleep took me, I thought I might even be looking forward to it.

  The Uncanny Kingdom was out there, waiting for me. Full of danger, of monsters, of the unknown. Of screams in the twilight and nightmares made flesh. And I was going to show it who was boss, because I’m Stella Familiar of the London Coven, and this city is mine to protect.

  The End.

  Familiar Magic

  1

  It was the absence of magic that first got me, hitting me like a punch to the stomach.

  As I stepped forward my legs actually shook a little, like they might give way and drop me to the ground. So much for the seen-it-all, jaded, powerful Familiar.

  My name is Stella, I belonged to the London Coven as the Familiar to a trio of witches, and I’d just arrived back to find the door hanging off its hinges. After discovering this, I’d just stood looking at the thing for a few seconds, confused. It was impossible. It couldn’t be. And yet there it stubbornly was.

  The entrance to the coven itself sits in Hammersmith, west London; just a few
streets away from the underground station. It’s situated down a blind alley, so called because only those who know it exists can actually see it. A simple but very effective bit of perception magic that makes the alley invisible to most, even when looking directly at it.

  Let’s get back to that impossible lack of magic.

  It assaulted my senses like a rancid smell. Like meat gone bad. The coven and the blind alley that led to its door should be noisy with magic. Alive with boiling, agitated power. It was home to my masters, Kala, Trin, & Feal, the most powerful witches in England, and every inch of the place was infused with magic, old and new, black and white. On top of that, there were the spells of protection. Thousands of them. Anyone that wasn’t meant to be there could find themselves stepping into a patch of superheated air that would melt the flesh from their bones. Or perhaps they’d blink and, just before their heart gave out, they’d find themselves confused as their eyes opened one last time to see their insides were now on the outside. There were any number of ways it could happen. Any number of creative deaths to discover. The coven was locked up tight, it had to be. It was impossible for anything to step inside that wasn’t invited. And yet…

  The door—

  The lack of magic—

  I swallowed hard and ducked through the gap created by the half-off door, straightening up slowly on the other side.

  The place was dead.

  There wasn’t a whisper of magic to be heard. To be felt. Tasted.

  It was impossible.

  I know I keep using that word, but it was true.

  Every building, every street, every hill and river and grain of sand contains some residue of magic. It’s all around us every day. Even if this place hadn’t been a coven, hadn’t housed three of the most powerful magical creatures in the country, the very fact of its existence meant it should emit traces of the Uncanny.

  But there was nothing.

  I reached out with all of my senses, desperate for anything. For a ghost of some ancient incantation.

  I came up empty and it terrified me.

  ‘Kala? Trin...?’

  Silence.