City of Magic: The Complete Series

by Helen Harper

  ‘Sounds fair enough,’ Lizzy murmured.

  I gave a half smile and nodded. ‘At least with everyone else gone, it’ll be easier to find a parking spot.’ I arched a glance at her. ‘Did you do that? Throw her off like that?’

  We watched the soldier limp away. ‘Charley,’ Lizzy said quietly, ‘I’m pretty certain that was you.’

  The electricity was out, the phones were down, and it felt like years since the internet had worked. Perhaps staying put in Manchester wasn’t such a grand idea after all. At least the cooker ran off gas, so we could still boil water for tea and coffee. Naturally, however, Lizzy and I ignored caffeine in favour of sitting together and polishing off a dusty bottle of single malt whisky that I’d won betting on an illegal boxing match aeons ago. By the time we’d concocted a semi-decent survival plan – at least for the short term – it was already night again.

  ‘We could wait until tomorrow,’ Lizzy suggested with a yawn. ‘I’m exhausted. Something feels different. It’s like I’m less on edge, less likely to burst out in fur at any moment. In fact, I feel that even if I do transform again, I’ll be more able to control it.’

  ‘No,’ I said, adamant that we couldn’t wait, even though I could also sense that something had changed in the atmosphere. There was some indefinable lessening of pressure, as if the magic that Monroe had spoken about had been released and had already dissipated into nothing. But at this point I wasn’t counting on a damn thing, especially my own senses. ‘Tomorrow might be too late. We’re not going to be the only ones here. I’ve been thinking about it and I reckon one in twenty will have ignored the evacuation orders and stayed put.’ I waggled my finger. ‘That’s a hell of a lot of people we have to compete with. The sooner we get out there and get the supplies we need, the better.’

  ‘Okay, yes, you’re right.’ Lizzy yawned again and pushed herself up off the floor, where we now had to sit because her bunyip form had destroyed all the deckchairs. ‘I’ll go find my shoes.’

  I drained the last of my glass and got up, feeling incredibly woozy. Perhaps the whisky hadn’t been such a good idea. All the same, it had provided a pleasant numbing effect. It would make our shopping trip more interesting, if nothing else.

  I poked around, finally locating my jacket, then I called up after Lizzy. ‘Hey! Come on!’

  There was no answer. Normally, that wouldn’t give me any cause for alarm but, given what had happened to her earlier, it made my blood freeze. I cocked my head, listening carefully. There weren’t any sounds of snarling or wanton furniture destruction. Crossing my fingers tightly, I tiptoed up the stairs. Please don’t be furry, I prayed. Please be Lizzy.

  When I reached her bedroom and spotted her lying face down on her bed, her arms and legs splayed out in a very human fashion, I finally breathed out again.

  ‘Lizzy?’

  There was no answer. I edged over and carefully lifted her onto her side so she’d be more comfortable. She didn’t so much as twitch. I put my hands on my hips and watched her for a second. Now she was resting properly, she actually looked at peace. No doubt she needed the sleep. I grabbed her duvet and covered her with it. ‘Sweet dreams,’ I whispered.

  Whether Lizzy was dead to the world or not, I still had to get supplies. We had no idea what was going to happen next. It could be anything – at this point, all bets were off. The only thing I knew for sure was that without food and water neither of us would last very long. I had to get to the supermarket before every looter in the vicinity had the same idea.

  The Wilsons, who lived three doors down, had an eleven-year-old son. Annoying as he was, and although he seemed to spend his free time ringing my doorbell and running away, he did possess a bike. I’d have too much on the way back to use it but if I could ride it to the supermarket, I’d cut down my journey time considerably.

  I peered in through their darkened windows, establishing that they had indeed been evacuated along with the rest of the street. Then I hopped over the gate into their garden and grabbed the bike.

  Unfortunately for me, it had been constructed for an eleven-year-old boy instead of for an adult. When I sat on it, my knees were virtually up to my ears but it was the best option I had. I shrugged and started to pedal. At least the tires were pumped up.

  The streets were eerily quiet – and very dark. Most of the street lamps had been smashed and very few buildings showed a glimmer of light from inside. Looming shadows from piles of rubble and overgrown trees slowed me down. Still, the surroundings were deathly silent so it was clear the army had evacuated more people than I’d thought. Beyond the few stragglers like myself, maybe the entire city was empty now. The thought was rather exciting.

  I spun to the left, performing a quick wheelie the like of which I’d not tried since I was eleven years old. I reckoned I’d have managed it if it hadn’t been for the gigantic shape that passed overhead. I skidded and promptly fell off.

  The shape flapped round. Before I could haul myself up from the ground, two beady eyes as large as footballs blinked at me. ‘Hello. I’m a dragon.’

  I swallowed, my eyes travelling down his massive body. He was definitely male. His penis was massive. And very wrinkly. It was that little detail that made me decide I wasn’t hallucinating. ‘Er … yes,’ I managed. ‘I can see that you are indeed a dragon.’

  It had never occurred to me that a dragon could grin but this one certainly could. ‘Watch this!’ He pulled back his head and opened his mouth, giant jaws revealing the sharp teeth underneath. I genuinely thought he was going to swallow me whole. I raised my hands in an instinctive bid to ward him off – but then he arched his neck and blew a jet of flame into the night sky. ‘Cool, huh?’

  It probably wasn’t wise to disagree with him. Besides, it was rather cool, given that I wasn’t yet being eaten or roasted alive. ‘Yes,’ I nodded vigorously.

  ‘That bicycle is far too small for you,’ he told me. ‘You should get yourself something else. I’d offer you a lift but I can’t stop. I’m on my way to save the world.’ His long tail swished from side to side. ‘Someone’s got to.’

  His words were like an icy bucket of water. I forgot to be scared and got to my feet so I could speak to him properly. ‘Save the world?’ This was too much of a coincidence. ‘Wait. Do you know Madrona?’

  He snorted. ‘The annoying faery? Yes, I know her. She’s fortunate she knows me.’ His voice deepened further. ‘I am Liung the Lawless and I am the only one who can stop the other mad faeries from destroying us all. Well,’ he amended, ‘destroying all of Manchester.’

  I wasn’t entirely convinced that this Liung fellow was all there but he had mentioned faeries. ‘We’re still in danger? What’s going to happen next?’

  ‘Nothing!’ he crowed. ‘Because I’m going to stop it all. Don’t worry, little human.’ He blinked at me. ‘Are you human? You seem to have a lot of magic about you.’

  ‘Magic? But…’

  ‘I have to go!’ he trilled. He rose up into the air.

  ‘Liung!’ I yelled. ‘Liung the Lawless! I need you to speak to me. I need…’ My words fell away. He was already flapping off, his immense belly – and groin – hanging down grotesquely. Shit. ‘Good luck,’ I shouted. ‘Stop the apocalypse!’

  He didn’t respond. By my reckoning, he was heading over to Castlefield, one of the nearby city suburbs. I debated for a moment: perhaps I should follow him. On this bike, however, it would take me far too long.

  Something was about to go down. Whatever it was, I’d have to hope that it went well. I crossed my fingers tightly. I might not believe in my own luck but if ever the rest of the world needed some it was now.

  ‘Come on, Madrona,’ I whispered. ‘We need you to win.’ And then, just in case, I added grudgingly, ‘You too, Monroe. Win the day.’

  I picked up the bike and continued on my way.

  Chapter Nine

  Part of me was expecting the darkened, shadowy supermarket to be full of people. I didn’t know why. It
was still hard to comprehend, I suppose, that the events of the past few days had been real.

  When I entered through a side door and realised the place was empty, I paused for a moment and marvelled at the silence. Then I grabbed a trolley and began, starting with water. If I hadn’t imagined that dragon, and he didn’t do what he’d promised, it wouldn’t be long before the taps ran dry. The more damn water I could stockpile the better.

  When I had packed one trolley, I started filling another. I ignored the fresh produce, a lot of which was already starting to rot, in favour of the canned and long-life food. I could do this. No problem.

  Some of the shelves had already been ransacked and I had to pick my way along several of the aisles, avoiding fallen cereal boxes and spilled bags of rice. Still, despite the time it took to navigate my way around, I was extremely pleased with myself. If I tied three trolleys together, I should be able to trundle them back home without too much bother. It would be slow going but I’d manage.

  I was contemplating the alcohol section and whether I could fit in a couple of bottles of booze – for medicinal purposes, of course – when I heard glass shatter at the other end of the supermarket. The sound was quickly followed by several voices lifted in glee. I tiptoed to the end of the aisle and peered round to take a look. At least twenty people were gingerly stepping through a broken window, one after the other. From this distance most of them appeared to be teenagers but I spotted the odd older – and burlier – figure. I pursed my lips in disapproval.

  ‘You want us to take it all?’ asked a young, doubtful voice. ‘It’s going to take days.’

  ‘Young man,’ drawled a chillingly familiar voice. ‘The whole point is to take it all. It’s simple economics, simple supply and demand.’

  I narrowed my eyes, watching as Maximillian Stone stepped through the broken window and smiled genially. Of course he’d be here. He wasn’t going to take the apocalypse lying down, and he wouldn’t allow himself to be evacuated from Manchester either. No doubt he was planning to take as much of the food and water that was still available and store it somewhere so he could sell it at exorbitant prices to those of us who also refused to leave. It was a canny plan – and one that would be a wasted effort if Madrona, Monroe and that nutty dragon managed to avert what was happening. Would that it could be so.

  I tapped my mouth thoughtfully as Max’s band of reprobates snagged trolleys and started filling them up. There were loud whoops; most of the kids seemed to be enjoying using the trolleys as dodgems rather than filling them up. All the same, I had to make a decision. I didn’t have long before they reached me – and there were far more of them than there was of me.

  I craned my neck. There was a fire exit at the far end of this aisle; all I had to do was grab my three trolleys and wheel them out of here without being noticed. Trying to stop Max in his bid to control all the food in the city was far too risky. I estimated my chances of success at less than one in two hundred; besides, there were plenty more supermarkets across the city. He couldn’t empty them all.

  I pushed away the nagging thought that Max was playing the long game and that he was banking on the idea that the government would abandon Manchester for good. I’d cross that bridge if and when I needed to.

  Quietly now, but with considerable haste, I moved my nearest trolley towards the fire exit then I ran back, staying on the balls of my feet, and took hold of the other two, one in each hand. I wheeled them back – just in the nick of time.

  Three youths appeared at the other end of the dark shopping aisle.

  ‘Booze!’

  ‘Lots of it!’

  They immediately started piling bottles into a trolley. One of them unscrewed a bottle of vodka and tipped it into his mouth. I opened the fire exit door carefully, timing it so that their voices were loud enough to cover the noise. I started to haul my trolleys out, one by one.

  I was manoeuvring the last one, the most important one with the bottled water, while congratulating myself on my stealthy movements when one of the lads swivelled round. His eyes alighted on me and he froze.

  I lifted my index finger to my lips, as if trying to engage him in my secret. It didn’t work. He opened his mouth and yelled, his words echoing round the supermarket, ‘We’re not alone!’

  The other two boys sprinted towards me. Shit. Shit. I yanked the trolley, snagging it on the edge of the door. I couldn’t leave it behind – we were going to need the water. I tried harder, reaching to free the metal mesh, as one of the boys caught me.

  I pushed him away, wrenching from his grasp. The trolley skittered down the ramp to join the others. I would have gone with it but several other lads appeared and grabbed hold of me.

  A moment later, Max himself appeared. ‘Well, well, well,’ he drawled. ‘Look which little rat has shown up, crawling out of her sewer.’ He stepped closer and brushed the skin of my cheek with his fingers. I couldn’t suppress a shudder.

  ‘Hello, Max,’ I managed. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

  ‘Charley. You always bring such … joy into my life.’ He bared his teeth. ‘Do you have my money?’

  ‘Funnily enough,’ I said, ‘I’ve been somewhat preoccupied the last day or two.’

  ‘Really?’ he murmured. ‘I can’t imagine why.’ He smiled at me, clearly amused at himself. ‘Don’t think I’m going to let a little thing like the evacuation of the city get in the way of your debt.’ A nasty smirk flickered round the edges of his mouth. ‘I saw Rider scarper quickly enough. That means I only have you to hold responsible.’ He leaned in. ‘I. Want. My. Money.’

  I breathed out. I had to admit I was relieved that Christopher had decided to leave Manchester; it was for the best, especially if Max was going to continue to hassle him as well as me.

  I gazed pointedly at the kids. ‘I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry,’ I said. ‘Unless you’re planning to leave money by the tills for all this stuff you’re taking, you’ve nothing to spend my hard-earned pennies on.’

  Max sniffed. ‘Not yet. And I’m not the only one who is taking from this place.’ He glanced pointedly at my trolleys, standing outside the door. ‘Everything in this supermarket belongs to me. Nothing can leave without my permission.’

  ‘You can’t do that.’

  He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh, but I can, little Charley. There’s a new world order in play.’ He licked his lips. ‘Manchester is mine now.’

  I didn’t think that he was impressed by my expression of amused disbelief. His smile disappeared.

  ‘In my Manchester,’ Max said, ‘thieves are punished.’

  Everyone watched him. ‘I said,’ he repeated in a louder voice, ‘in my Manchester, thieves are punished.’

  The kids cheered and punched the air. A few of them began to chant, ‘Kill, kill, kill.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?’

  He pursed his lips. ‘Maybe we’ll chop off a hand, given it’s a first offence.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘One of you find me a knife.’

  I didn’t actually believe that Max would do as he threatened, but I could see how he might resort to such violent tactics if normal life didn’t resume soon. For now, I’d bet the hand of mine that he was currently stroking that he was still focused on intimidation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t scary.

  ‘Look,’ I said, ‘you can threaten all you like but…’

  Without warning, he backhanded me, his palm cracking across my face with such stunning, shocking pain that I cried out. A few of the kids cheered. Most of the adults looked delighted.

  ‘Get on your knees,’ Max commanded. ‘Get on your knees and apologise to me.’

  I might have considered it if I could have left peacefully with my shopping supplies. Bending my knee wouldn’t change a thing for me in the future, whether it made Max’s dick hard or not. But before I could fully consider the ramifications of agreeing or refusing to bow down, I spotted the girl towards the back of the pack. She was a
few years younger than me, with long, straggly brown hair, cowed eyes and a gigantic bruise across her face, probably not dissimilar to the one that was forming on my own cheekbone. I had my limits – and Max had reached them.

  ‘Fuck you,’ I hissed. I writhed underneath the hands holding me and managed to break free on my left side. Max raised his hand for another strike as I yanked myself forward with all the explosive force I could muster. A strange pounding pressure was building up in my skull. My fingertips throbbed and there was a dull roaring sound in my ears. ‘Fuck off!’ I screamed.

  The air around me rippled in odd, invisible waves. As if in slow motion Max, the boys, the men and even the beaten girl were thrown several feet, arms and legs akimbo. Every single one of them fell onto their backs, sprawling silent and unmoving.

  I gaped. The pressure in my head had gone but my fingers still pulsated. I held them up and wiggled them. There was a faint blue light emanating from each fingertip. Uh…

  I shook myself. I didn’t know what had happened or what I’d done, but I had to take advantage of it. I darted over to the girl and checked her pulse. It was steady, and she was still breathing. Good enough for now. I picked her up, threaded my arms under her armpits and dragged her out to my waiting trolleys, then heaved her on top of the nearest one. Given how overladen the trolley was, she was balanced precariously. This wasn’t going to be easy but I had to vamoose before Max and his pimply minions woke up again.

  With incredible difficulty I swung each trolley round, creating a sort of arrow with one trolley at the front and the two others, including the one with the comatose girl in it, at the back. Unfortunately, what had seemed easy in my head wasn’t quite so simple in practice. Every ten feet or so, the front trolley veered off.

  It took me five minutes to reach the end of the car park. The girl was starting to groan as she came round. That meant Max wouldn’t be far behind. I’d been confident that he wouldn’t really hurt me before but now that I’d flattened him and his cronies, I had no doubt that it would be a different story.