by H B Lyne
Eyes nodded in agreement and they helped Ian to his feet. He stood up but was uncoordinated and continued to stare passively right through them. They got him back into Eyes' car and drove him back across Caerton to St. Mark's Hospital. Eyes felt his stomach turn in knots as they approached.
'We don't want to end up getting involved in this.' Eyes said reluctantly.
'No, but we can't just leave him, we have to get him some help.' James said solemnly.
They pulled into a drop-off space in front of the Accident and Emergency entrance and pulled Ian from the car. Eyes took the bulk of the boy's weight and James went ahead to grab a wheelchair from just inside the entrance. Eyes lowered the boy carefully into the chair and wheeled him into triage.
There were rows and rows of chairs filled with waiting patients, low moans were being emitted from some, a child was crying and a man on the far side of the waiting room was talking loudly into his mobile phone. A harassed-looking woman sat behind the desk with a queue of half a dozen people waiting to be logged in.
'We can't wait with him,' Eyes said in a low whisper. 'We need to get back to the house.'
'If the demon did this to him, the doctors won't be able to figure out what's wrong with him, will they?' James asked very quietly.
'No,' Eyes replied. 'We need to speak to the demon. That's the only way we'll get answers.'
'He'll be all right here,' James said, an edge of uncertainty in his voice. Eyes glanced at him, unsure how to respond. He didn't know if the boy would be all right, or if the Witches would find him. He crouched before Ian and looked into his glazed eyes, his head still lolled to one side and drool was hanging from his parted lips. He stood and looked around him, two paramedics were striding out from a corridor leading to cubicles, heading towards the main exit. Eyes moved into their path and held out a hand.
'Please, can you help this man? We found him in the street in St. Catherine's and brought him here. We don't know him and can't stay any longer.' He looked imploringly into one pair of eyes and then the other and the paramedics exchanged glances before nodding and turning their attention to Ian.
'Hello? Hello, can you hear me?' one of them said as he bent to examine Ian, in that loud voice reserved for the injured, the elderly and the hard-of-hearing. Eyes and James walked backwards a few paces then turned and made a hasty exit. They got back into the car and Eyes set off back to Grove Street. The relief was enormous, though he was reluctant to let go of all caution.
'The demon must have done something to him before we got there,' James said as they drove back to the house. 'He was already unconscious, but I guess we got caught up in stopping the demon going back to the Witches and didn't give the boy too much thought. I'm sorry.'
'It's okay, it's understandable.'
They arrived back at the house and found the others waiting anxiously for them. Stalker leapt up from her chair in the kitchen when they walked in, immediately firing questions at them.
'What happened? How did it go? What did he say when he woke up? Where is he now?'
'He was damaged, I think,' James said, voicing what Eyes had been thinking.
'Either the trauma or something the demon did to him,' Eyes continued. 'We need to get that thing back here and find out.'
Wind Talker strode out into the garden without a word and crossed the veil. Eyes followed him and the others trailed after him. Wind Talker drew his knife and stuck it right through his hand. Blood squirted out and trickled down his arm. Eyes didn't even flinch, the blood-letting was becoming so commonplace that he barely noticed it any more.
'Scourging Agony!' Wind Talker bellowed through gritted teeth.
The demon appeared in front of them. It was the first time Eyes had laid eyes on it and he suppressed a shudder of revulsion at the loose skin and black eyes and mouth.
'Ooh, that looks painful,' the demon said, sneering at Wind Talker.
'What did you do to that boy?' Wind Talker shouted.
'I thought you would never ask.' A grotesque smile formed on the demon's face. 'I extracted his memories for my mistress.'
Stalker and James reacted immediately, clearly ready for a fight. Eyes caught Stalker's arm and her head snapped to him, her eyes glowering at him. He shook his head in warning and gently pulled her to his side. 'That's right, calm your dog down. I didn't take the memories to her. I was intercepted by this rabble and have been true to my word to them.' Scourging Agony said with contempt.
'Do you still consider her to be your mistress?' James asked, tension in his voice.
'No, I suppose not. Old habits die hard.'
'There is a place for you, half a mile from here,' James explained. 'It's a place where people go to deliberately inflict pain upon themselves, they decorate and mutilate their bodies with needles. Does that sound adequate for your needs?'
Scourging Agony drew a long, rattling breath and clicked his fingers against one another. His black eyes moved slowly from shifter to shifter as he considered their offer.
'I believe so,' he replied. The demon grinned at them, his black mouth distorted and grotesque.
'What about the boy?' Eyes asked, a tremor in his voice. 'Will he recover? How much did you take from his mind?'
'Everything,' the demon replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. 'I took everything, all of his memories. He will remain as he is now unless I put them back. I can put them back if you would like.'
'No,' Eyes said quickly, before anyone else could speak. Stalker tensed at his side and he held her steady. 'No, I don't think that would be wise. Best he not remember anything of this business.'
'What happens when the Witches summon you?' James asked.
'If I ignore them they will either think that I have perished, or will know that I have betrayed them.' Scourging Agony looked thoughtful, but not concerned. 'They may use stronger magic that I cannot ignore and drag me to them against my will.'
'Don't ignore them,' Eyes said, his voice barely above a whisper. His thoughts were spinning as he tried to puzzle a way out of this mess. 'You will have to answer their call and lie to them. Can you do that?'
'Of course,' the demon said, bowing his head slightly. 'What would you have me tell them?'
'That someone else had beaten you to it,' Eyes replied. 'You found the boy in a catatonic state with no memories.' He didn't know if it would work, he knew he couldn't trust this demon's word for a second but it was worth a shot. He wondered if they were making a terrible mistake and whether they would be better off killing the demon. But he knew what Fortune would have done, he knew he would have tried to turn the situation to his advantage. 'You will report back to us and give us any information we ask for about the Witches. Do you understand?'
'I do,' the demon replied frostily. 'I had better go to them now, in that case, in order to prevent any suspicion.'
'Do it,' Eyes replied and in the blink of an eye Scourging Agony was gone.
Stalker snatched her arm from Eyes' grip and slapped him hard across the face. Eyes instinctively put a hand to his cheek and recoiled from the attack, but he had known it was coming and it didn't so much as sting.
'How could you do that? How could you make that kind of deal with that thing?' she shrieked. 'This is not good. Not good for the boy, obviously, but for us too. I'm worried about the things we've done. At least the boy won't be talking any time soon but that's really beside the point. The Witches we can handle, the police we can handle. Becoming the type of creatures that would allow an innocent person to end up like that? Can we handle that?'
She turned and stormed away without waiting for a reply. Eyes heard the front door slam and looked cautiously around at the rest of the pack. No one spoke. Stalker's question hung in the air around them for a long, silent moment.
'We will have to,' Eyes finally whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow
The door slammed shut behind her and rattled in its wooden frame. Stalker glance
d at it and considered going back inside to talk things over with Eyes. She was too angry, she needed to cool off, so she shifted into an owl and flew off into the night sky. The tumultuous clouds swirled overhead and rain began to fall. Somewhere nearby there was a shriek and a dark shape rose up from the street and snatched something out of the air. Hepethia was dangerous, even for shifters who belonged there, and Stalker swiftly crossed the veil back into the human world. She headed straight for her flat, which was a few blocks away.
She landed on a windowsill and shifted carefully into the form of a moth. It was difficult to make her body so small and it took a great deal of concentration. There was an air vent above the window and she crawled inside, right through into the kitchen.
Fluttering down from the vent, she shifted into her human form and landed smoothly on the floor. It was almost pitch black and the shadows seemed deeper and darker than they should. Stalker shivered, the emptiness of the place was palpable. She flicked a light on and it flooded the kitchen. She closed her eyes for a moment, recoiling from the sudden brightness. As her eyes adjusted, she opened them again and looked around. The surfaces were gathering dust.
Stalker moved through into the living room and turned on another light. Something on the table caught her eye, a little package wrapped in brown paper and tied with thick string sat all on its own. She went to it and hurriedly unwrapped it. A small vial of water on a black string tumbled out. The vial was full to the brim and sealed with wax, there was not the slightest air bubble inside and she turned it over in her hand in confusion. She looked at the paper and saw small writing scrawled over the inside.
My dear Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow,
Congratulations on fulfilling your oath to Odin to take the fight to the Furies. Please find enclosed Still Waters. This talisman will help you to keep a cool head and calm nerves. Odin gifts us with furious fire when we need it, but he is also infinitely wise, and the All Father knows that sometimes we need control and this will help you with that.
It is my firmest wish to see you achieve great things in this life. Please do not hesitate to contact me for any support you may need.
On behalf of all of Odin's Warriors,
Your brother,
Ragged Edge
Stalker smiled. She placed the talisman around her neck, carefully folded the piece of paper into a small square and tucked it into her pocket.
She picked up her post and sat down at the table to go through everything that had mounted up. It was dull and tedious, but the vial of water against her chest felt cool and calming and her fingers kept drifting to caress it. She was concerned about paying the bills for a place she rarely visited and never stayed at, and considered giving up her flat. But as tonight had demonstrated, it was a valuable bolt-hole, a place to go when she needed her own space.
It occurred to her that she didn't know what would happen if she crossed the veil here. Hepethia was another layer of reality that existed alongside the human world. Sometimes it resembled the human world, if shifters had moulded it to do so. She could mould this place to suit her needs. She crossed the veil, holding her breath in anticipation. She dropped suddenly, falling rapidly towards the empty street and a few feet from the ground she stopped falling and floated gracefully down, thanks to her pendant. She was at the edge of the maze that the Blue Moon had created. The ground beneath her feet was cobblestones that stretched away to the south into a misty haze. Behind her was a huge, red brick wall that marked the edge of the maze. It was a relief to find that crossing the veil at her flat, her own private territory, led her to a place outside of this demon trap.
She crouched down and placed a hand on the smooth, wet cobbles. She thought about what she would like this place to be; secure, safe, hidden and comfortable. The ground moved slowly, rumbling and vibrating. A mound began to rise beneath her and she wobbled slightly before finding her balance. A small hill formed against the brick wall, the cobbles broken apart slightly with grass sprouting up between them. It looked perfectly natural and Stalker wondered what she had created.
A moment later, she felt herself sinking slowly into the ground, like sinking through quicksand, but she didn't feel panic, she felt as though she were being wrapped in a thick duvet and drawn into an enormous bed. The ground swallowed her up and closed over her, hiding her perfectly. She blinked in the darkness and slowly light began to fill the space. It was warm, yellow light, like a hundred candles, and in the little hollow beneath the hill she found mounds of cushions, and set into the earth around her were shining crystals.
It was beautiful and everything she had wanted. Now she would have to keep her flat, it was the doorway into this place and only she could enter. With a smile she crossed the veil again and found herself back in the living room.
Finally she felt ready to return to the pack. She walked slowly through the rain, feeling every drop on her hair and skin.
She entered the dark, quiet house. She crept up the hall and peered into the living room. Wind Talker was curled up in front of the electric fire in his badger form, breathing heavily. James was scrunched onto the small sofa with a blanket over him. Stalker was struck by this, she had grown accustomed to shifters sleeping in their animal forms and seeing James, who didn't yet have a shifter name either, sleeping like a normal human seemed odd.
Weaver was awake, furiously sketching in the low light from the little fire. She looked up at Stalker and gave her a small smile.
'Hi,' she whispered. 'Are you all right?'
'Yeah,' Stalker replied. 'Has Eyes gone home for the night?'
Weaver nodded in reply. Stalker was relieved and moved into the room; she pulled off her boots and sat down next to Weaver. Her sketches were of the Plague Doctor and a hoard of huge rats. It made Stalker shudder. She didn't care for rats.
Stalker watched Weaver drawing for a long time, neither of them spoke. Stalker thought about the way in which Weaver had sided with Wind Talker and been so happy to go along with the plan to ally with Scourging Agony. It was a side to Weaver that she hadn't seen before. She was sure that it was to do with the Witches and what they had done to her when they held her captive. Weaver had a vicious streak when it came to dealing with them now. Stalker wanted vengeance for the destruction of the Blue Moon, she felt furious anger towards the Witches and the Phoenix Guard, but there was something else to Weaver's pain. It was something that Stalker couldn't quite identify and didn't relate to.
She didn't want there to be distance between her and Weaver, she wanted to go back to how things used to be when they used to sit up late talking and go sneaking around getting into trouble. It felt like she was thinking back on a lengthy childhood many years ago, yet it had only been a few weeks. Stalker put her head on Weaver's shoulder in a silent gesture of affection. Weaver tilted her head so that her cheek touched Stalker's head and Stalker smiled to herself. Perhaps all was not lost.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fights-Eyes-Open
Eyes examined himself in the mirror. His suit looked good and he filled it well. His hair was never immaculate, it was too wild to tame, but he carried it off well. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks looked a little drawn in. The stress under which he was living was written clearly on his face.
Chloe came up behind him and snaked her arms around him. He welcomed her warmth and turned to face her. She wasn't dressed yet and her hair was still tussled from bed. Eyes ached for her and stooped to kiss her deeply. With regret, he pulled away and stroked her hair gently.
'You look sharp,' she said with a smile.
'Thank you,' he replied with a grin. 'I have an important meeting this morning.'
'On a Saturday?'
'I'm afraid so.' He turned back to the mirror and straightened his tie for the fourth time. 'I should be home this afternoon though. I'm looking forward to spending some time with you and Amy.'
'I'll hold you to that,' Chloe said over her shoulder as she swept away towards the bathroom.
; Little feet came racing down the hall and an excited squeal yanked Eyes away from his reflection.
'Daddy!' Amy ran into the bedroom with her arms stretched above her head. 'Up!'
Eyes scooped her up into his arms and spun her around, grinning like a fool as she squealed and laughed with delight. How simple it was to make everything right in the world of a three-year-old. He fell with her onto the bed and they snuggled up together. He examined her carefully and tried to stifle a laugh at what he found.
'You, munchkin,' he said with mock seriousness, 'have glitter all over your hands and in your hair.'
'Yeah,' she said with a grin. 'Mummy said bath tonight after more glitter fun today.'
'You can help with that,' Chloe called from the bathroom and Eyes felt a small laugh bubble up his throat. What would Wind Talker say if he saw any of this? Not a lot, Eyes decided, but if looks could kill then his most certainly would.
'Can I? Oh great, I'm looking forward to it.' He stroked Amy's hair and gave her a kiss on the forehead. 'Daddy has to go to a very important meeting now with a very important man.'
'Who man?' Amy asked, full of innocent curiosity and not a hint of negativity.
'A man who just might be secretly in charge of the whole city,' he whispered with a conspiratorial wink.
'Oh, Daddy, that's a very big job.'
Eyes kissed her again and stood up from the bed. His tie had been jostled loose and his suit rumpled but with a heavy sigh he decided it really didn't matter.
'I will see you later and we will make glitter butterflies.'
'Yuck, no Daddy!' Amy shouted. 'Glitter monsters.'
'Of course,' he said. He smiled in wonder at her and went to the bathroom door. Chloe was brushing her teeth so he contented himself with a quick hug from behind and kissed the nape of her neck. 'See you later.'
She grunted a goodbye and he left her to it.
The drive into the city was relatively quiet but by the time he had parked and set off walking to Harris Intermediaries the streets were starting to feel busier. It was only a few weeks until Christmas and so Caerton was starting to feel festive and fill up with shoppers.