Peril

by Joss Stirling

  ‘Hmm. What?’ She’d twigged from his grin that she’d just made an unwise bargain. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Now she listens. Too late. I have your word.’

  She closed the sketchbook. ‘What word?’

  He patted his lap. ‘Come here and I’ll tell you.’

  She frowned. ‘I wasn’t really listening. It doesn’t count.’

  ‘Look on it as a penalty then for not paying attention. I might let you off if you come here.’ He patted his lap again.

  With a huff, she uncurled from the beaten up armchair and moved to sit on him in the swivel chair. ‘Satisfied.’

  Resting his forehead on her chest he breathed in. Over the last few days, he’d come to love every little thing about her but especially the scent that was pure Meri: a little flowery from her favourite soap and then her underneath it. ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘And I’m let off whatever it is I promised?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  She kissed him. ‘And now?’

  ‘Yes, you’re forgiven.’ He spun the chair in a circle so they both took a ride. ‘Do you want to hear what I found out?’ He dipped her back and gave her a playful kiss on the lips.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘There are groups coming up globally when I enter the key phrases. All are membership only. We’d require a hacker to get beyond the first level.’

  Running her fingers through his hair, Meri frowned in thought. ‘I could ask Sadie.’

  ‘Sadie?’

  ‘She set up a secure link to Theo for me in case one of your guys has computer skills and was listening in to his communications.’

  Kel didn’t say anything—couldn’t—but it was just the kind of thing Ade would order. Lee and Tiber both had the training to do that. He hoped Sadie was as good as her reputation claimed.

  ‘But if I ask her,’ continued Meri, ‘then I’ll have to explain something about why I’m interested.’

  ‘You could take the direct approach: ring the number on the card.’

  ‘Or go back and see Mrs Frobisher. We already talked about that.’

  ‘You think that’s better?’ Kel wished he could keep her safely behind closed doors for ever but that wasn’t a workable life plan.

  ‘It’s hard to gauge what side these people are on unless I talk to them face to face. I might just be walking into that flypaper if I ring the number.’

  ‘Going back might be another trap too.’ He caressed her waist, wishing they could just be them in a simple world where they weren’t supposed to be enemies. She felt so slight to him; having all this weighing on her was just wrong. ‘OK, we’ll pick our moment so they don’t have time to prepare and we’ll go together. When?’

  ‘Let’s go today. It’s Christmas Eve and I haven’t even bought you a present. You obviously rock Phil’s old hoodie and Terry’s jeans but I could get you some of your own clothes while we’re there.’

  ‘Sounds like a good plan.’ He gave her a final squeeze then let her slip off his lap. She danced off across the room, energized by the idea of going out to find some answers. ‘And don’t worry: I’ve got your back.’

  She left the room to get ready for going out in the snow. Kel remained at the computer, smile fading. He had her back. Simple, true words, but they set off an ugly echo. Backup was what he had spent his entire life training to be for Ade. Guarding the Perilous was his family’s pride and profession throughout generations, the cause for which his mother gave her life. Meri was what he had been taught to fear and he’d sworn to defend the royal line from any threat she posed. To his kind, there was no bigger betrayal than what he was doing now. They’d say he was in bed with the enemy.

  With a sigh, he shutdown the computer and switched off the screen.

  If that was what they believed, then so be it. He could only do what he thought was right.

  When they arrived at St Katharine’s dock, Kel wondered why he’d never been to any of the riverside markets before. It was a fabulous sight, lit by solar-powered lanterns and candles, humming with live music and crowds of bargain hunters. Wooden walkways had been raised above the submerged pavements so that people could walk without getting their feet wet at high tide. The rhythmic thud of footsteps added a bass to the tenor and soprano of the voices. Behind the masts of the barges and, further off, beyond the turrets of the Tower of London, the city skyscrapers blazed bright white. No one in those buildings worried about carbon budgets or bills. They still partied there as if it were the Year Two Thousand. Kel preferred the wavy yellow light of the riverside lanterns, slowly dimming at the solar batteries faded, the flickering shadows cast by the candle-flames, the intrigue of the faces glimpsed in fragments among the shade. The snow highlights on roof and ledge made the market appear like a scene ready to be turned into an Advent calendar.

  Just lift a hatch or open a window to find the hidden chocolate, mused Kel.

  ‘Like it?’ asked Meri.

  ‘Love it. This market runs all day everyday?’

  ‘I think so. They live here now. When the buildings got flooded and the firms moved to higher ground, they sailed in and used some of what could be rescued.’ She stopped by a stall selling iced gingerbread biscuits. ‘Aren’t they pretty, Kel? Can I have two, please?’

  The stall-holder swept his hand across the display. ‘Which shapes, Miss?’

  ‘Oh, a Father and a Mother Christmas.’

  ‘I’ll add a Rudolph with my compliments.’

  ‘Thanks. That’s really kind of you.’ Meri took the paper bag he handed her and opened it up under a string of fairy lights a few paces away. ‘You can choose.’

  ‘Lucky dip then.’ Kel plunged in his hand and came out with Rudolph. From the flicker of disappointment on Meri’s face, he could tell that was the one she had really wanted with its dab of red icing. ‘Here’s what I picked for you.’ He brushed it against her lips until she bit into it. He put his hand in the bag again. ‘And it looks like I’m eating Santa. I’m sure that’s probably a black mark against me and I’ll get coal in my stocking.’

  Going halves on Mother Christmas, they washed down the gingerbread with a mug of hot apple juice while sitting on a thick coil of rope which served as table and chairs at the bar. A violinist and a cello player busked nearby, playing a selection of seasonal songs.

  ‘What do you normally do at Christmas?’ Meri asked, watching the little band amuse the crowds by taking requests.

  ‘I like to go to Midnight Mass—feel a bit of the awe and mystery, you know?’

  She nodded. ‘Hmm, me too. Theo has this thing for carols.’

  ‘Then in the morning we unwrap presents—one big one each, bought by everyone in the house—and then all chip in to cook a huge dinner. It’s normally not ready until late afternoon. It’s fun.’ It had always been his favourite day, he realized with a pang of yearning. ‘That’s how we got U-Can. Last year’s most popular present. I think we let the turkey burn playing with him.’

  ‘You have turkey? Real turkey? No way!’

  ‘Yeah.’ He rolled his shoulders, uneasy at the reminder of the privileged life he had taken for granted.

  ‘And let it burn? Geez, meat is wasted on you guys.’

  He was relieved that she could still joke about a household of people who were her sworn enemies. ‘So what do you and Theo have for dinner?’

  ‘A little turkey once or twice—Saddiq has his ways—but usually chicken.’

  ‘So Theo will be with his friends this year, like at your birthday?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘I just don’t want to think of him being alone.’

  ‘No, he won’t be. They’ll rally round.’ She brushed off the crumbs from the biscuits. ‘I wish I could see him though. I miss him so much.’

  He knew she would prefer that above any other kind of present he could organize for her. ‘Maybe we could arrange something. We seem to have got away with me being with you. We could set up a meeting somewhere Theo won’t
be watched.’

  ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘Somewhere that seems random, like a big crowd, that would be good. It’s almost impossible to follow someone in a situation like that.’

  ‘New Year’s Eve then. For the fireworks at Trafalgar Square.’

  ‘Perfect. I won’t tell anyone that’s what you’re up to.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that, like, blur your loyalty lines rather too much?’

  Kel trailed his fingers down her cheek. ‘Meri, I think they got blurred a while back, don’t you?’

  ‘Right. OK. I’ll message Theo tonight and start the ball rolling. Shall we go and see what’s going on with Mrs Frobisher now?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Oh, and, keep your jacket zipped, OK?’ She pushed the fastener all the way up so no betraying hint of skin showed. ‘We don’t know what we’re dealing with.’

  Mrs Frobisher was busy with customers when they climbed on board the secondhand clothing barge. Meri led Kel over to the pile she said blazed with peril, not that Kel could see it. At most he could see a faint bluish glow to some of the fabrics.

  ‘If we look here, she’ll come to us. At least, that’s what happened last time. What about this?’ She held up a hoodie. ‘That’ll fit you. And how about these jeans?’

  ‘What’s on them?’

  ‘You really can’t see?’

  ‘Why would I be asking if I could?’

  ‘Sorry, it’s just odd to be reminded of that. OK, this hoodie has a nice graffiti-style zigzag and the jeans have a kind of fleck in peril mixed in the weave.’

  Kel held them up against himself. ‘But if I go round with these on, aren’t I marking a target on myself to those who can see?’

  ‘Oh, I guess so.’ She dropped them back on the pile.

  ‘But if I’m hanging with you, then it’ll be more like a disguise. People will assume I’m the same as you.’ He picked them up. ‘And you like them.’

  She grinned. ‘I do. Finally some clothes that actually look right to me. Usually people look as if they’ve been dressed by someone with all the fashion sense of a circus clown.’

  Kel glanced down at his current outfit. ‘You should’ve said.’

  ‘Not you—not normally. Mostly girls really as they wear the brightest colours. Valerie frequently gives me a headache. And Saddiq when he wears his orange waistcoat with the gold pinstripe trousers. Just something about those colours that sets my teeth on edge.’

  ‘The downside of having a superpower, hey?’ He tapped her nose.

  ‘Back again?’ Mrs Frobisher arrived at their side. She was bundled up against the cold in a padded coat, red hair tucked into a hat with earflaps.

  ‘How much for these?’ asked Meri.

  Studying the two customers, Mrs Frobisher went through a pretence of checking the garments. ‘These are good quality.’

  ‘I hope so as they’re a present for my friend here.’

  ‘He likes the graffiti logo, does he?’

  ‘Love it,’ said Kel quickly.

  Mrs Frobisher named a price and Meri accepted it without trying to bargain. She dug in her purse.

  ‘I can do a special rate for friends,’ Mrs Frobisher said carelessly, not taking the offered money.

  ‘I see. Who qualifies as a friend?’

  ‘Did you have a look at that card I gave you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Make anything of it?’

  ‘You know that I did, Mrs Frobisher, I just don’t know what it means. Care to explain?’

  Mrs Frobisher got out her e-cigarette, a delaying tactic, Kel thought, to buy her thinking time. He glanced around. He wasn’t sure what was making the back of his neck itch, but he didn’t feel happy.

  The barge woman blew out a puff of vapour. ‘Well, it’s tricky, isn’t it? Cart before horse, chicken and egg.’

  ‘You mean who goes first?’ Kel admired Meri’s level tone. She’d certainly gained in confidence over the last few months surviving on her own. ‘I’d prefer it if you make the running here. I’ll just say that I can see what you see.’

  ‘OK, ducky, I’ll give it a whirl. Pull up a stool.’ Keeping an eye on her customers, Mrs Frobisher led them to the shelter of her cabin towards the stern. ‘It’s like this: your ability to see these patterns means you share something with me and those like me. Have you heard of Teans?’

  Meri nodded.

  ‘You, sunshine?’ Mrs Frobisher pointed her cigarette at Kel.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Seeing colours like you do means you’ve got some of their blood in you. There used to be many more of them, pure bloods, strong, powerful, a civilization with a long history, but it’s dwindled. We’re left with a network of people who have one or two ancestors who were Teans. My grandfather was one, and a great-grandmother on my mother’s side, so I’ve got pretty good sight. Do you know who your ancestor might be? We might be able to match you up with family.’

  ‘Can we get to that in a minute?’ said Meri. ‘I’d like to know more about what the Tean Sympathizers do.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ Mrs Frobisher crossed her booted ankles. ‘Look, the Teans have become distant, almost mythical, like those ancients who built Stonehenge; but we live on, the people who come from them. The difference for us is that we can tell who we are by this physical distinction.

  ‘Originally, we used to try and help the full blooded Teans, offer sanctuary when we found any, because they were hunted by a rival people called the Perilous. Heard of them?’

  Meri squeezed Kel’s hand, an unnecessary warning to keep quiet. ‘We have.’

  ‘As far as I’m aware, we’ve not been called on to do that for some years so now we protect ourselves. The Perilous are fanatics. They see anything Tean as bad news and will destroy what little is left of the culture so you’d better be careful about not flashing that power of yours in public.’

  ‘I’m not one for flashing.’

  ‘No, you don’t look the sort. Him? Maybe.’ She smiled at Kel. ‘Our job as we see it is to keep the stories, the relics, the cultural practices alive.’ Mrs Frobisher sucked on her cigarette, letting the violet light shine between them for a moment. ‘What? Wait!’ She grabbed Kel’s wrist, holding the cigarette up to his skin. Too late, Kel realized it glowed with a UV bulb, picking out the pattern on his arm. ‘What’s your game, you two? Have you been sent to spy on us?’

  Kel pulled his hand free. ‘Come on, Meri: we’d better go.’

  ‘You’re not going anywhere.’ Mrs Frobisher reached up and rang a bell hanging over the cabin door. ‘You can’t. I told you too much. Stupid! Stupid!’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ protested Meri. ‘He’s with me.’

  Alarmed by the bell, the ordinary shoppers looked up from browsing. Several of the other barge owners abandoned their businesses and swarmed up the ladder. Big Ben, the affable giant from the internet cafe, was the first to reach Mrs Frobisher.

  ‘Got a problem, Mabel?’

  ‘Big one of the wrong colour. Clear the decks, Ben. Ah, Francis, thank goodness you’re here,’ she said as a man emerged from the lower deck of the barge. With his white beard, peaked cap and thick knitted jumper, he looked the epitome of an old sea dog, the sort of man habitually seen fishing at the end of a pier.

  ‘Mabel, are you all right?’ asked Francis.

  Kel wasn’t too worried for himself. He was sure he could take down the big guy and evade the rest but he had no idea how Meri would react. ‘We’re going to have to run for it,’ he muttered, pulling her close to him. If pushed they could jump to the next barge and make their escape that way.

  ‘Move along, ladies. Little issue with some shoplifters to sort out so Mrs Frobisher is closing early tonight,’ rumbled Ben, shepherding the stragglers off the deck.

  ‘What’s the story with the youngsters, dear?’ asked Francis.

  ‘He’s Perilous. She’s not, as far as I can tell, but she lured me into telling her about us.’

  Meri was trembl
ing. Kel rubbed her arm in reassurance. They were in a fix but he could probably still get them out.

  ‘She lied to me—caught me off my guard,’ continued Mrs Frobisher.

  ‘I did not lie to you!’ exploded Meri, pushing past Kel and coming to stand toe to toe with Mrs Frobisher. Kel realized what he had read as fear from Meri was actually fury. ‘We answered every question truthfully.’

  Mrs Frobisher waved that away. ‘Hid the truth then. But the point is, he knows about our network: I’d got that far in the induction.’

  ‘And you didn’t check?’ Francis frowned.

  Mrs Frobisher looked flustered. ‘I checked her last time when she came on her own. Sorry—I made a mistake. I would never have imagined…’

  ‘Who would?’ He patted her on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry: we’ll fix it.’

  ‘You don’t need to fix anything!’ snapped Meri. ‘Kel is not a problem. He’s my friend. And I will not have racist comments made about him in my presence.’

  ‘I’m not a racist!’ Mrs Frobisher seemed genuinely shocked at the accusation.

  ‘You said he was a problem of the wrong colour: that’s pretty straight forward to me.’

  ‘I’m not against his skin markings but the fact that he’s Perilous. He probably wants to kill all of us!’ Mrs Frobisher tugged the strings that tied the flaps of her hat in frustration. ‘Why am I defending myself to her? She’s the one who came here betraying all Tean Sympathizers!’

  Ben returned from clearing the boat of outsiders. He was accompanied by four men, all of whom looked as though they knew what to do with themselves in a physical tussle. Kel’s estimation of his chances of fighting free dipped.

  ‘It’s the lil’chick. I remember you. Came by a couple of months back, didn’t you? What you doing bringing trouble to nice people like the Frobishers?’ Ben asked regretfully.

  ‘I came because she,’ Meri pointed an accusing finger at Mrs Frobisher, ‘gave me a card and told me to be in touch. This is me doing so. There were no conditions attached.’

  ‘But you obviously can’t bring a Perilous here,’ said Francis Frobisher calmly. Kel decided that he was probably the one who called the shots. ‘We’re a Tean safe haven and that means Perilous are banned. Ben?’