by Jenna Grey
“I just hope Jack’s office isn’t on the ground floor,” Finn said.
The place was emptier than they’d expected it to be, but then Polly supposed that most of them had been evacuated along with everyone else, or at least gone to the higher floors. Everywhere she looked there were security cameras, and it sent a prickle down her spine. She knew that somewhere someone was watching them.
“Talk about Big Brother is watching you,” Liam said.
There were security gates in front of them, the sort that they had at airports with scanners and Xray machines. Polly clutched her bad more tightly under her arm, glad now that she’d packed her best knickers. She hadn’t even thought about being searched. She could see now why Blaine had told Liam to leave his jewellery behind.
“Why are we doing this again?” Finn asked. “What the hell are we doing here?”
They moved to the reception desk, a glass-enclosed area, with just one person inside. He was standing at the desk packing things into a box. He turned as they approached the counter and looked them up and down as if they were something the cat had dragged in and played with for several hours; to be fair, they must have presented quite a picture, a bit like a sopping wet Dorothy and her three equally bedraggled companions following the Yellow Brick Road to Oz. There was Finn, wearing his Guardians of the Galaxy tee shirt, and a bomber jacket with filthy, tatty jeans, Liam in black and looking pretty scary, and Bert looking like death, in an old oilskin with his bandaged arm in a sling.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. “This area has been evacuated. We’re just about to lock the place down.”
“Jack Blaine told us to meet him here,” Liam said.
“Oh, right,” he said, and from the look on his face, Polly got the impression that Blaine didn’t hold this man’s affection. “I don’t know if he’s still here. Almost everyone’s been sent over to Cheltenham. There’s just a skeleton staff left. You need to get somewhere safe.” Polly could hear the wind outside battering the building, the windows rattling. There was close to a hurricane blowing outside now.
“You really think it’s safer out there?” Liam asked, as something heavy smashed into the front doors, almost taking them from their hinges.
Polly looked up, and to her relief, saw Jack standing there.
“It’s okay. I’ll take over. You get upstairs, there are a bunch of diehards up there. Go and grab yourself a nice hot cup of something. It looks as if you’re going to have to spend the night.” He turned to Bert. “The Home Secretary has been evacuated out of the city, along with the PM and most of the cabinet. At least you’ve been spared that.”
The man didn’t argue, but hugging his box and potted plant made for the lift.
“Take the stairs, Sid. Not a good idea to take the lift right now.”
Sid nodded, sighed and began to walk towards the security gate.
“Step this way folks. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to go through security. If you’ve got any keys on you or anything metal, you need to put them in the trays.” He turned to Liam. “If you’ve got any weapons on you, you better hand them over now.”
“No, it’s okay, I left the Kalashnikov back at the shop,” Liam said.
Blaine didn’t smile.
“We’ll see if we can find you some dry clothes; you look like hell.”
“We brought spare clothes, but we could use something to warm us up,” Finn said. “We’ve just walked from Warwick Square. Dad really needs to rest.”
Blaine looked mortified.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. I should have sent someone to get you.”
“Oh, stop apologising,” Bert said. “At least we’re here.”
Jack looked at Bert’s bandaged hand, the white now a delicate rose pink where the water had soaked through.
They’d reached the security gates by that time, and Polly’s heart started pounding, even though she had nothing to feel guilty about. The guards regarded them with stony faces, and Liam glared back at them.
“Just so you know, we’re the good guys,” Liam said, pointedly.
Polly put her bag onto the conveyer belt and watched as it went through. Then she stepped through and instantly the detector started making noises.
The guard glanced down at her neck.
“You need to take the necklaces off,”
“I can’t,” she protested.
“It’s okay,” Blaine said, “Let her through.” That got Blaine a dirty look. “My responsibility. Let her through.”
“Have you cleared this?” The other guard asked.
“No,” Blaine said. “I thought it was a great time to bring some of my friends on a guided tour. They’ve got the highest clearance. If you want to waste our time, then phone through and check, but be ready to get an ear bashing.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” Bert said. “You’re going to let us through, aren’t you?”
The guard hesitated for a moment, his face blank, then waved them through.
“Just doing my job,” the man snarled, giving Blaine a really filthy look as he passed.
“Yeah, and I’m just doing mine,” Blaine replied.
“Did you…?” Polly asked Bert when they were out of earshot.
Bert just grinned at her and tapped the side of his nose.
“It’s no good getting older if you don’t get craftier,” he said.
They had all got through by this time, and Blaine ushered them towards the stairs.
“Sorry, we have to take the stairs. We can go to the first aid room. I’ll organise some hot drinks and food for you,” Jack said.
“You must be very important,” Polly said, “for him to let you order him about like that.”
Blaine laughed.
“No, but I do have clearance to bring you here.”
“Aren’t you worried about getting flooded out? We’re so near the river,” Polly said, trotting behind Blaine as he led them up the stairs.
“We should be okay. I got onto the Met Office, and they reckon that it’s not going to get any worse than this, the barrier can cope with the water. We might get wet feet, but that’s about it. We’re pretty safe.”
“That’s what they said about the Titanic,” Finn said.
Blaine didn’t see the joke.
“Fact is we can’t move Winchard, so we don’t have much choice in the matter.”
“I’m just not sure that the Met Office factored a hell god into their calculations,” Liam said.
“Well, let’s hope that just this once, they get it right.”
The first aid room was more like a small hospital ward, with four beds, and everything you’d expect in a modern hospital. Polly had been expecting a camp bed in a cupboard. Once she had dried off a bit and had a cup of hot chocolate inside her, she felt immeasurably better.
“I’m afraid the nurse has been evacuated, but you need that wound redressed Bert, it’s soaked through,” Blaine said.
“After we’ve seen Winchard,” Bert replied. “I... I just think we can’t afford to leave it too long before we speak to him.”
“Danger?” Blaine asked.
“Perhaps, but sooner rather than later would be a wise move.”
“Where did you find him?” Polly asked, clutching her second cup of hot chocolate to try and defrost her still stinging fingers.
“A cottage not that far from your shop. Bert described it so well; we went straight there. He didn’t even see us coming. He’s still trying to convince me that he’s the real Albert Witherspoon, and putting on a pretty good act. He hasn’t quite got the idea yet that I’m not just some MI5 bod who thinks that the only things that go bump in the night are cars with broken tail lights.”
Finn glanced across at Liam, and his expression made it quite clear what he was thinking. Bert gave them a pinched look and said:
“No, son, I didn’t make a mistake. It is Winchard.”
“Yeah, course,” Finn mumbled a little sheepishly.
�
��I can feel the evil radiating from him in rolling waves of dark energy,” Blaine said. “There’s no doubt it’s him. Trust me.”
“But Gaunt wasn’t with him?” Liam asked.
Blaine pulled a face.
“Unfortunately no.”
“I saw him as clear as day,” Bert said. “Gaunt is somewhere in the same area as well, but I haven’t been able to find him. He’s very well hidden. I don’t think it was a falling out between them. I think that they’ve separated for safety, while they plan their next move.”
“That makes sense, that’s basic safety strategy, every agent has just one contact, so if they’re caught, they can only expose one other person in the chain. If Winchard doesn’t know where Gaunt or any other members of the coven are then it’s safer for everyone,” Blaine said.
“Except me,” Polly added.
“I was hoping that you could help me with a ritual of my own, Bert,” Blaine said. “The cell is a good temporary measure, but I’d like to perform a ritual that will permanently trap Winchard in that body. I can make him disappear then, and he won’t be harming anyone else, I can promise you that. My department has a special kind of hell hole for people like him.”
“Then the person that owned the body has definitely gone, with no chance of coming back?” Polly asked, disconsolate.
“I’m afraid not, sweetheart. There’s no way of helping him now, I’m afraid,” Bert said.
“Just tell us what we need to do, and we’ll do it,” Liam added. “We want that bastard put down, and we don’t care how you do it.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
They took the stairs down to basement level, not a very encouraging thought with water already lapping at the steps of the building. There was a corridor with doors on either side; Polly could only guess they were holding cells. They were metal, typical prison doors, with a small barred window set at eye level. Polly didn’t even want to guess what went on behind them, but she was pretty sure it didn’t involve flower arranging.
“Hi Perry, we need to see the latest addition,” Blaine said to the approaching figure. He was a surly looking man, with a pock-marked face, and a somewhat lopsided jaw. He gave them an unimpressed look, lingering just a little too long on Polly, tipping his head to indicate they should follow him.
“He’s been vocalising quite enthusiastically all day, saying there’s been a mistake and he wants his phone call,” the gorilla said, surprisingly eloquent.
“Sorry,” Blaine said, but there was a hint of a smile trying to escape.
“Not a problem, I just put my headphones on and played some Mozart.”
“You should think about getting upstairs,” Blaine said.
“I can hang on here for a bit. If it starts looking too unpleasant I can swim for it,” he said with a chuckle.
They stopped by a door at the end of the corridor, and Perry pulled a keycard from his belt and swiped it down a contact pad, then tapped in six digit security code. The door opened with a loud thunk.
“We might be a while,” Blaine said. “I’ll text you when we’re ready to come out.”
Perry nodded and turned to leave.
“The weather’s not looking too good out there. I’ll keep the news on and buzz down if there’s imminent danger of flooding. Your boy is the only one down here at the moment. If it gets too bad, we can move him upstairs.”
Blaine cut in just a little too quickly.
“No, we can’t. If it gets too bad – well, just let us know.”
Polly wasn’t too sure what that meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it.
They walked into a largish room, and in the centre of it was a glass room, not a prison cell, just a large glass room. Inside that was a glass tank, about six feet square, just large enough to take the narrow bunk and a chemical toilet. The prisoner was lying on the cot with his back to them.
Blaine took a key from his pocket and opened a door set in the glass wall.
“Is that safe?” Liam asked.
“The outer case is bullet and gas proof. The inside tank is 8mm thick glass, the sort they use for large fish tanks. I’ve put a dampening spell on it. Winchard can’t use any kind of magic while he’s in there and that includes body swapping. Nothing gets out, and nothing gets in. I warned Perry and the other security personnel not to come in here for any reason. We’re protected; they’re not.”
Polly fingered the small amulet that hung around her neck and was suddenly very grateful for it. Blaine went up and tapped on the glass.
“Ay, arsehole. I brought some friends to see you.”
The prisoner sat up and rubbed his eyes. Polly just stared at the little man imprisoned behind the glass. He looked so different from the man she knew as Dalbert Winchard, a bald, unassuming figure with a wrinkled, but kind face. He looked from one to the other with a bewildered expression.
“What’s this all about? Please, I don’t understand what’s going on. Why am I here, who are you people?”
“Oh, cut the crap, Winchard,” Blaine said. “I don’t have time for these bloody games.”
Polly stared hard at the man in front of her. Could this really be Dalbert Winchard? What if Bert had made a mistake?
“Who was he, this Albert Witherspoon?” Polly asked, staring hard at the man behind the glass, trying to see through the veneer of flesh. She couldn’t see his aura and wondered if that was something to do with the dampening field that Jack had put around the cell. Perhaps this arcane barrier was blocking all psychic energy.
“He was a librarian, a nice man; he lived on his own,” Blaine replied, his voice bitter, “but he was well liked in the village. He ran the local scout troop, did a lot for charity. A good man.”
The man behind the glass had just the tiniest little smirk at the corner of his mouth, his eyes narrowing just a little and Polly knew, just knew that this really was Winchard.
“He probably picked the most innocuous person he could find out of sheer perversity,” Finn said. “Got some sort of kick out of destroying another innocent. And who would ever suspect someone as decent as poor Albert?”
“You bastard,” Polly said, her voice tight in her throat. “I can still see you in there; if I look into your eyes, I can still see the malicious little pervert that tried to rape me. You disgust me.”
“They say that the eyes are the window to the soul,” Liam said. “This one’s soul stinks.”
Winchard scowled at him, obviously realising there was no point in carrying on the charade.
“Well, you’re a fine one to talk,” Winchard spat back. “Whose body did you steal?”
“Someone that bloody well deserved it.” Liam suddenly lunged forwards and punched the glass with the side of his hand. “I hope you rot in hell for eternity for what you’ve done to Polly!”
Winchard laughed.
“Okay, enough,” Blaine said. “This is getting us nowhere. I’m not going to pussyfoot around with you, Winchard. I’ve got an offer for you, you can either take it or not, up to you. If you tell us where Gaunt is, I’ll tie your spirit to that body and arrange for you to be transferred to one of Her Majesty’s prisons where you can spend the rest of your miserable life, rotting for all I care. If you don’t cooperate, then I’ll put a bullet in your brain right now. Your choice.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Winchard sneered at him. “I don’t know where he is, but I do know he won’t leave me here. He needs me.”
“He’s not going to tell you anything,” Bert said, “He’s too afraid of those he serves.” Then Bert hesitated, a smile brightening his face. “But perhaps I can persuade him to at least tell us where some of the others are.”
Winchard just continued to scowl at him, a malicious little ferret, mumbling curses under his breath. Polly was pretty confident they really were curses and just prayed that Jack’s security measures were as good as he seemed to think they were.
“I think I should show Dalbert what awaits him if he doesn’t cooperate; it will be an enlighten
ing experience for him,” Bert said. “If you would all be kind enough to stay quiet for a few moments.”
Polly just blinked at him, totally bemused, glancing across at Finn and Liam to see if they approved of this. They both wore poker faces, but at least neither of them were protesting and begging Bert to stop, which reassured her a little.
Bert closed his eyes, and nothing happened for a moment, then Winchard dropped, just dropped to the ground, unconscious. He lay in a dead faint on the cell floor, and Polly thought for a moment that he might be dead.
“What’s Bert doing?” Polly whispered to Finn.
“It’s only best guess, but I think he’s showing Winchard a vision of Helheim, where he’s destined to end up if he doesn’t change his present course.”
Polly knew that she had no choice but to follow. She closed her eyes and stared into the darkness behind her eyelids, the ghost of Finn’s face still floating in front of her. For a moment there was nothing, then the darkness intensified, a gradual morphing into the total absence of light, and she knew that she had slipped from one reality to another.
The darkness was almost overwhelming, but gradually Polly could see dim shapes emerging from the obscuration – moving shadows that were coming ever closer. Utter terror gripped her. She knew this place; she’d been here before.
Helheim.
She was standing in a glittering field of frozen rock and snow that stretched as far as she could see in every direction. Above her were icicles, vicious daggers jutting out from the rocky ceiling; they were in a vast cavern that seemed as big as the world.
“Don’t be afraid, Polly,” a voice beside her said. “You’re quite safe. I had hoped that you would choose not to take this journey. I’m not sure that it’s something you should see.”
She looked across to see Bert standing just a couple of feet from her and beside him a trembling Dalbert Winchard, in his old body, or at least something that looked like it.
“I’ve already seen it, Bert,” Polly replied. “I’ve been here before. It’s Helheim.”