Winter Rising: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Coldharbour Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Amos

  “I don’t really have all the information. There’s someone who does, though. We can go see her after this.”

  I didn’t really have a comeback to that. I just wanted out of this damned place.

  “What I can tell you is this,” Dean said. “Those hands of yours do some serious damage to those things.”

  “Better than your knuckle dusters?”

  “Much better. And only you can do it.” Dean winced. “Sorry, can’t help it with the vague crap.”

  “You’re not the first bloke to get all cryptic on me. Don’t worry, I’ll go with it.” That had been some serious shit I’d inflicted upon the hyena thing.

  “Put your hand in the puddle,” Dean said.

  Gross. “Really?”

  “I would if I could, but I’d end up unconscious.”

  I crouched down. This would either get me killed, or Dean was telling the truth. The way I saw it, there was only one way forward.

  I stuck my hands into the gloop.

  The sparks consumed the slime, burning it away like soup left on the hob too long.

  Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the way as the door fell forward with a heavy crash.

  “Er, thanks.”

  “That would’ve hurt,” Dean said.

  “It would.” He really did smell so good.

  “Let’s go.”

  Dean led the way across the threshold into a large space filled with pipes, pipes and more pipes. They groaned and water ran within their dark bellies. The floor was gritty under my bare soles, and the place reeked of rotten egg. Breathing through the nose was the only way.

  The walls were dripping with orange gunk, fatty drips plopping onto the ground with sticky thumps.

  Dean paused and turned to me as we reached a grid of pipes, something moving beyond it. His dark eyes were startling in their obsidian intensity.

  “We go around this and you take her down. She’s unguarded.”

  “A queen is unguarded?”

  “Yeah, her minions did a runner.”

  I faced my destination, catching glimpses of a creature through the gaps. It was growling.

  I squeezed through a space between the rows of pipes, stomach scraping a little on them. I kept my hands to my chest. The sparks kissed my face, doing nothing. They didn’t affect the pipes either, even though I kept waiting for the big boom to come.

  Once through, no explosion coming, I turned to meet the growler.

  It had the face and upper body of the other hyena things, yet its lower body was a white, pulsating mass of grossness. Like a termite queen, only fatter and with nasty orange veins and weird gurgling noises coming from it.

  “Blimey.”

  The queen hissed. “Vile man! Be gone from here. Be gone!”

  The sparks spat aggressively in response to her tone. Yellow eyes watched me, yellow eyes filled with terror. Much like a termite queen, this thing was too swollen to move—unless she had some secret super-power to unleash.

  Dean slid in behind me. “Interesting,” he said.

  “I will bring about the end at the beginning. I am the terror that will come to your world. A new dawn is coming …”

  “All you have to do is grab her head,” Dean whispered into my ear. I shivered at the sensation.

  “… I will rise to great heights and …” The queen went on and on.

  “Is that it?”

  “Always touch the head for the best result.”

  I said nothing, walking up to the queen.

  “Get away from me, you vile man! Get away! Get away!” Her jaws snapped.

  I avoided every snap, every swipe of her talons and grabbed onto her head.

  Back in the place of fog, I ran for the golden jewel and let the sparks destroy it as they had before.

  “Very nice,” Dean said, as I returned to the real world.

  The orange ooze receded and the stench relented.

  “There, problem over,” Dean said. “Well, for now. I’ve got some work to be getting on with. Make your way upstairs to find Greg and Naomi. They’ll take it from here.”

  Dean took off.

  “Wait!”

  I ran after him, but once back on the stairway outside, Dean was long gone. I couldn’t even hear his footsteps.

  Damn.

  I took the stairs up to chaos.

  Sirens were going crazy, people rushing into the hospital as the sleepers came awake. A man knocked into me, didn’t even look back as he raced past.

  “Jake?”

  Greg and the blue-haired woman came bounding over.

  “Oh, thank fuck,” Greg said.

  “Erm, hi,” I said. Uncomfortable seeing as I’d tried to shoot him. Lucky for him, I had no sense of aim.

  “Hello,” the woman said. “I’m Naomi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Shit, we have so much to tell you. What a mess. Those poxy things got us before we could do anything about it.”

  Police flooded A&E. A woman stopped, following the uniformed police, smartly dressed, brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Her attention was on me, as if he’d gestured at her to get it.

  I shuffled from foot to foot.

  She approached. “Detective Inspector Williams.” She flashed her ID. “What happened to you, sir?”

  Why was she looking at me like that? “Too much alcohol.”

  “Right.” She cocked her head. I didn’t like the way she scrutinized, as the old bill were want to do. “What about everything else?”

  “Everything else?”

  “You didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary?”

  “Should I have?”

  “Sorry, luv, we have to go,” Naomi said.

  “The hospital was inaccessible,” Inspector Williams said. “The police are everywhere. You didn’t notice?”

  Dean was right. “No.”

  “You didn’t notice—” Her eyes glazed over, her mouth drooping open. It lasted for a few seconds, and then she was back to normal.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Can we help you?” Greg asked.

  “Oh, I, erm.” She looked lost. “No, I don’t know. Where am I?”

  “Coldharbour Hospital.”

  “I am?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her eyes glazed again, another three seconds passing.

  The inspector smiled and nodded, walking off.

  That was weird. “Is that it?”

  “Seems Dean is getting on with the job,” Naomi said.

  “Where is he?” Greg said. He turned to me. “You haven’t seen—”

  I cut him off. “Right, you both need to start talking.”

  “Then follow us,” Greg said.

  I did, right outside, down a small street next to the hospital, up to a waiting black Mercedes. The engine purred. I couldn’t see the driver as the windows were tinted.

  “Get in,” Greg said.

  “Why the fuck should I go anywhere with you?”

  “So everything can be explained.”

  “You knew this was going to happen, whatever this is, didn’t you?”

  Greg dropped his chin to his chest. “Yeah.”

  “Come on,” Naomi said. “You’ve come this far. Might as well see it to the end.”

  What choice did I have? I didn’t know what the hell was going on at all, or even what my next move was gonna be. I could stand and pout and be pissed off, or I could, well, not. After all, I was on the verge of crumbling under the weight of having my regular world turned upside down. I’d been down that road before and wasn’t about to fall into that state again.

  Chapter 8

  The driver of the Mercedes went by the name of Mr. Douglas. He didn’t say much, only hello on the first meeting. A screen had cut off the front of the car anyway.

  The city whizzed by beyond the tinted windows. I didn’t say much either, just watched the scenery. We were heading east, following the coast road.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, Jake,” Greg said.
r />   I ignored him.

  “You think Dean can pull this off?” Naomi said.

  “Karla says he can.”

  This Karla must be the fucking oracle.

  “Yeah, it looked like it worked,” Naomi added.

  The car went up a steep hill, the road curling in its ascent.

  Man, the view would be amazing on a clearer day. It was higher than it looked from below. Much higher.

  Sitting on the posh leather in the posh car, I was all too aware of the sick smell coming from me, my half-nakedness. Bollocks to this. I’d demand some bloody clothes and a shower as well as answers.

  The road curved up, running alongside the mansion grounds to the right and a wall of rock to the left.

  Mr. Douglas slowed the car down, turning right as the iron gates of the mansion grounds opened. I swear I heard him say something through the screen.

  The mansion grounds were well-manicured with fancy topiary and fountains, like something out of a movie. An iron fence enclosed it all for as far as I could see. The house itself was a grand gothic structure, bigger than Buckingham Palace. Well, it looked it. A forest rose up behind it, just about distinguishable in the dark. Perfect for a horror story, but also quite beautiful—as they always were in those tales.

  My mum would’ve loved it. She enjoyed anything castle, church or stately home.

  The car came to a stop at the end of the driveway, next to a set of stairs leading up to massive wooden doors.

  “Right,” Greg said, “shall we?”

  Before I could move, Mr. Douglas was out of his seat and opening the door for me.

  “Thanks.” I slid out of the car.

  It was freezing and a lot windier up here. Without a word, I followed Greg and Naomi up the stairs. Naomi pushed the door open as Greg turned around to say something. His mouth opened, but snapped closed again. He turned to follow Naomi into the soft light beyond the open door.

  I followed next.

  Inside, I was surprised by the décor. I’d expected grand marble floors and suits of armor and all sorts of fancy things. I had grand well and truly on my mind. Instead, despite the hallway being huge, it was carpeted in biscuit brown, the walls a soft white and adorned with all sorts of paintings, and it emitted a warm feeling. There were several closed doors in the hallway, wooden and varnished to a glistening gloss. A couple of chandeliers glowed above, their light gently illuminating everything. Right ahead was a staircase, forking left and right at the mezzanine.

  “This way,” Naomi said. She opened a door to my right.

  The room was a library, made up of row upon row of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. There were French windows at the opposite end of the room, biscuit drapes to match the biscuit carpet were pulled back. A log fire burned before two three-seater sofas of brown leather and a matching armchair. Above the mantelpiece was a bare brick wall.

  A woman sat in the armchair, the back of her head visible. She lifted a teacup from the table beside her and took a sip.

  “Welcome,” she said, putting the cup back.

  Naomi gestured for me to come and take a seat. Her and Greg took one sofa, I took the other, fingers going to my mouth. I started to gnaw my nails.

  The woman had long, gray hair, and dark glasses covered her eyes. She looked to be in her seventies, and she wore a white jumper and slacks.

  “You know, that is a terrible habit,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Biting your nails.”

  “That’s my business.”

  The woman smiled. “My name is Karla Jones. Welcome to my home.”

  I shifted in my seat. “Mind telling me what I’m doing here?”

  “Dean?” Karla said.

  “He’s on it,” Greg replied.

  “Good. Jake, I do apologize for the unfortunate events that have transpired. This was not the plan.”

  “Just start talking or I’m walking.” The threat sounded petulant, but I didn’t give two shits.

  “I gather you encountered Dean Tseng,” Karla said.

  “Yeah.”

  “May I ask what he told you?”

  “That I’m important and can really do damage to those things that were in the hospital.”

  Karla took another sip of her drink. “You are important, Jake Winter. Very important.”

  She picked up an object that sat next to her cup of tea. It was an orb. She twiddled it and the bare wall opened up, bricks sliding away to reveal a rectangular hole. There was a grinding sound, and a painting came out of the darkness.

  A painting of me.

  I was on my feet. “What the bloody hell is that?”

  “You,” Karla said. “Please sit down.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It was me, scarily like me. More of a photograph than a painting. I was watching myself, dark blue eyes so full of sadness.

  “Why do you have this? How do you even have this?”

  “Please sit.”

  “I’d rather stand.”

  “Very well. You, Jake, have been sent to us, to help us win an ongoing war. The canvas used to have a Picasso on it. That image of you came up on it a year ago.”

  I didn’t know how to answer that. So I’d somehow messed up her expensive painting?

  “There is no point in me skirting around the issue,” she added.

  “Then don’t.”

  “Coldharbour has a unique problem. It is plagued by creatures known as the beasts, creatures that have latched onto our world. They cannot be truly killed unless touched by the weapon of the goddess—a weapon we have not had until now. That’s you. You were sent to us to help us break the curse on this city.”

  Right. I stopped gnawing at my nails.

  “Jake,” Greg said, “this—”

  “For real?”

  “Yes,” Karla said. “All that you have seen is real.”

  “How did the city get cursed?”

  She took a moment to answer. “It is an ongoing investigation. Something went seriously wrong somewhere; we are just not sure what.”

  I nodded. “And I’m some sort of weapon?” That explained why the hyenas kept saying it.

  “Yes. Jake, you must understand what I am saying to you. This is what you were born for, to harness the power of the goddess, to help us fight these creatures.”

  “Goddess?”

  “Our blessed Hecate. She showed you to me in my dreams, told me that you would come.”

  “Erm, okay.” I held onto the desire to piss myself laughing. “That’s great.”

  “I know you think I’m ridiculous.”

  I took a seat. Well, I’d wanted answers. “So I’m some weapon that kills these beasts because of some curse on Coldharbour?”

  “Yes.” Karla didn’t seem to move much, her small frame pretty much locked in the one position. As she sipped more of her beverage, I realized what the dark glasses were for.

  “You’re blind,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  I got back on track with the pressing issues. “Tell me about this curse.”

  “Coldharbour has been sealed away from the rest of the world for three years since the beasts came, a threat contained within so it cannot spread without. The supernatural council and the government have had it removed from all records, from all consciousness.”

  “What?”

  “Technology and magic working together can be a very powerful tool.”

  “But there’s no such thing as this city. It’s not on the map.”

  “Yet here you are.”

  “Magic and technology?”

  “The government and the supernatural council did what needed to be done in order for the greater good. Those of us in the know have been tasked to fight the enemy, even though we cannot kill them. No final death for them. That’s where you come in.”

  My head was fit to burst. “You’re telling me this place was just wiped off the map and from memory?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what happened. You see the Un
ited Kingdom as the shape you think it is, but it is a little different. Coldharbour is next to Bournemouth, sitting to the west. It is the second largest city outside of the London, coming behind Birmingham. At least it was.”

  The flickering rocks that weren’t supposed to be there. I explained that to her, leaving out the white eye guy stuff.

  “Your destiny led you to that cave, Jake. I did not know how you would find your way here, as I know of none, and the goddess did not say. Yet you did. It proves your destiny is to be here.”

  “Weird, right?” Greg said.

  “That’s an understatement. Wait, so what about this city’s residents?”

  “They know there is something wrong but not quite what. They live their lives as they always have, relatively unaware of things because we keep it that way. But they are victims we need to care for. People have died and continue to die. And they cannot leave, just like us, just like the beasts, and nothing gets in. We are manipulating them to continue an existence while we protect them as best we can and try to figure out how to end this curse.”

  “You’re taking the piss, right? How can people never leave?”

  She linked her fingers together. “It is all part of the city’s curse. Those beyond it will forget all about you. That’s part of the magic holding us in.”

  My sister? My dad? Forget me? “That’s insane, like all you’ve just told me.” Like I’d seen for myself. “We’re all trapped? Blimey.”

  “I know,” Karla said, “this is a lot to take in.”

  “You’re telling me.” My head was fit to go pop.

  “I’m not dreaming?” Talk about a stupid question! There was nothing to say I was dreaming, not anymore. But it was one of those moments of constant confirmation that us humans need to do in order to be sure we weren’t in some sort of drug or booze-induced coma.

  Unless I was dead. I didn’t ask that question.

  “If only,” Karla said. “There is just one more stage to go.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The binding of the weapon and the guardians.”

  “That’s us,” Naomi said. “We’re like your knights of the roundtable.”

  I looked from her to Greg, then back to Karla. “You three?”

  “I am more of a watcher, dealing with guidance,” Karla said. “As I said, you were shown to me by the goddess. She said this to me: ‘Should he conquer his afflictions, he shall be my gift to you. Bond with him, you and your chosen warriors, protect him and guide him. Then may the curse be undone.’”