Grindhelm's Key

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Grindhelm's Key Page 28

by Nick Moseley


  ‘Creepy but true,’ said the kitten. ‘There are times when you need to protect someone from the truth. This isn’t one of them.’

  Trev sighed. ‘Better get the testing done, then.’

  McKenzie had the Custodians lined up. She’d explained to them what they were doing and they’d arranged themselves in a queue based on how much energy each of them felt they had left.

  ‘All yours,’ she said to Trev, joining the line herself.

  Trev went through the operation of the Key in a calm, relaxed voice that was at odds with how he really felt. In his estimation the probability that they’d find anyone who could use the artefact hovered a tiny fraction above zero. It didn’t mean they shouldn’t try, of course; but it did mean that before long they’d all be looking to him for a plan B that he simply hadn’t got.

  The contraction of the lit area was a ticking clock he couldn’t ignore. As if encouraged by the mounting fear of the shield’s occupants, the darkness tightened its grip with increasing speed. Soon the pillars were lost to the shadows and the light was being pushed back across the flagstones towards the dais. As a sinister accompaniment, the incessant mental summons dug its fingers deeper into Trev’s mind with every minute, making it difficult to concentrate.

  The testing went as poorly as expected. The Key made its way along the line of Custodians without as much as a flicker of light from its crystal. Before long it had reached Harris, who’d stationed himself at the very end of the queue in sullen silence. He at least appeared to make a genuine effort to activate the Key, closing his eyes and frowning in effort, but to no result. After a couple of minutes of trying he shook his head and threw the artefact back to Trev.

  ‘What now, genius?’ he asked.

  Aside from the snide delivery, the question was fair. Trev had no reply. He stood with his eyes down, looking at the Key and wondering if being turned to dust was painful. Not at all, the darkness seemed to say. Walk out of the light and it will all be over.

  ‘All right everyone, let’s get up on the dais,’ said McKenzie.

  The Custodians did as she suggested, taking the unconscious Barton with them. Nobody spoke. By now the progress of the dark line around them was visible. They could actually see it inching across the floor.

  ‘Any thoughts?’ Trev whispered to Oscar.

  ‘Thoughts?’ said the kitten. ‘It’s taking all my faculties just to keep from jumping off your shoulder and into the shadows.’

  Trev scrabbled through the tangled mess that was his mind, searching for inspiration. He found none.

  The encroaching shadow reached the bottom step of the dais. The whole world now consisted of a fragile pool of light that could do nothing except fall back from the more powerful force that surrounded it. The group of humans shuffled closer together. They knew their time was almost up.

  With no warning, Harris abruptly turned and walked briskly down the steps. Young made a belated grab for him and missed. The red-haired man disappeared into the shadows.

  ‘Shit,’ whispered Gunter. ‘Oh shit.’

  Sarah took Trev’s arm. ‘There must be something we can do,’ she said. ‘We can’t just stand here and wait for it to reach us.’

  ‘There’s nothing,’ said Trev, shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘Without a reserve of psychic energy I can’t operate the Key. We’re trapped.’

  Sarah cast her eyes across the disconsolate group of Custodians. ‘If only there was some way they could give you theirs,’ she said.

  Somewhere in the back of Trev’s mind a light went on. It was a dim light, but it stood out amidst the darkness like a beacon.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he said.

  Thirty-Four

  ‘What?’ Sarah asked.

  Trev reached down and squeezed her hand. ‘I might have an idea.’

  He crossed the dais and found McKenzie. She was leaning against the stone ring with her eyes half-closed.

  ‘McKenzie,’ Trev said.

  She blinked at him. ‘I can feel it in my head,’ she said. ‘It’s calling me.’

  Trev nodded. ‘Me too. Can you channel some energy into your hand?’

  McKenzie frowned but didn’t ask why. She held out her hand; within a few seconds it began to emit a soft glow.

  ‘This might feel weird,’ said Trev.

  He took McKenzie’s hand with his own and focused on the energy beneath her skin, drawing it to the surface.

  ‘What are you doing?’ McKenzie asked. She didn’t pull her hand away, although her gritted teeth showed that the sensation was unpleasant.

  ‘I think I might be able to borrow some of your energy,’ said Trev.

  He was used to pulling energy towards him with his “recharging” ability, but he’d never had to pull it out of someone else before. As he’d expected, it took more effort. McKenzie’s body didn’t want to give up its reserves, and there followed a strange tug-of-war between them. Blood dripped from Trev’s nose as he struggled to get hold of the energy. Just as he thought he wouldn’t be able to tap into it after all, the inertia broke and it began to flow.

  McKenzie hissed between her teeth and narrowed her eyes. There was a puzzled audience of Custodians now, watching Trev and McKenzie standing there holding hands and wincing at each other. Trev’s nosebleed worsened and a headache was drilling into his brain. He knew he was risking his health by attempting a second “recharge” of the evening, but there were no other options on the table.

  He took as much of McKenzie’s energy as he dared, leaving only a residual amount. The Key needed a lot of juice to power it, and what she had wasn’t nearly enough on its own. He’d have to repeat the procedure with the other Custodians. He let go of McKenzie’s hand.

  ‘God,’ she said, rubbing her arm. ‘It’s gone numb. How the hell can you take my energy like that?’

  ‘Long story,’ said Trev. He swiped at his nose, smearing blood across the back of his hand. ‘I need more, though. And quick.’

  Young held out his hand. ‘Go for it,’ he said, visibly steeling himself.

  They repeated the procedure. Young hadn’t got much energy left. Trev took what he could, the pain in his head increasing as he exerted himself. When he released Young’s hand he dropped to one knee, panting.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Not really,’ Trev wheezed. ‘Doing this isn’t good for me. It might even kill me.’ He pointed at the darkness, which was halfway up the steps. ‘But that will definitely kill me, so I haven’t got much choice.’

  Sarah and McKenzie helped him to his feet. Sarah handed him a tissue which he tore up and used to plug his bleeding nostrils. He needed to stop, if only for a few minutes, just to relieve the pressure on his system. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. Time was against them. Not only that, Trev felt that if he stopped now he wouldn’t be able to start again. He had to push on.

  ‘Who’s next?’ he croaked. Rahman stepped up and Trev took his hand.

  The next few minutes were a blur of pain and disorientation. Rahman was followed by Gunter. By the time Trev released her hand his head felt as if it was going to split. His stomach roiled with nausea and the plugs of tissue in his nostrils were saturated with blood.

  ‘Trev?’ McKenzie’s voice was muffled by the thumping in his ears. He looked up at her from his position on the floor, propped up against the stone ring.

  ‘Uh,’ he said.

  ‘Did it work? Have you got enough energy to use the Key?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Trev tried to stand. He slid a few inches up the stone before slumping back. ‘Maybe. I… it’s hard to think.’

  Barker crouched in front of him. He pulled off one of his gloves. ‘I can offer more if you need it.’

  Every part of Trev’s body was calling for mercy. He took Barker’s hand anyway. In the event he wasn’t able to take much; the strain had left him teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, and he couldn’t risk passing out. He let out an exhalation that was part cough, part retch and let go of Barker.
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br />   ‘That’s it,’ he gasped.

  For a terrifying moment he thought he’d pass out anyway. His head drooped and his eyelids became very heavy. All he could see were the legs of the people around him, and beyond them a dark line edging towards him.

  A tiny paw batted his ear. ‘Don’t nod off, chief,’ said Oscar. ‘I’ll have some pretty stern words for you if you fall asleep and we all die.’

  ‘I bet,’ Trev muttered.

  Oscar sat up on his shoulder and pressed his front paws to Trev’s cheek. The kitten began to glow as he formed an aura about himself. A cool sensation spread out from his paws. It didn’t wipe away Trev’s headache, but muted it enough for him to think clearly.

  ‘That help?’ Oscar asked. ‘I hope so, because I don’t have any aspirin on me.’

  ‘It’ll do,’ Trev replied. He fumbled in his pocket for the Key. ‘Can someone help me up?’

  Barker and McKenzie hauled him to his feet. The group was crowded together in the little circle of light that remained. Young had Barton’s arm across his shoulders and was holding up the unconscious man.

  ‘Grab on,’ Trev said.

  He was glad of Oscar’s soothing aura. Without it, there was no way he’d have been able to concentrate enough to activate the Key. Even with the kitten’s assistance, there was a moment of panic when couldn’t form a link with the artefact. He had the energy but the Key wasn’t responding to it. Bad Trev, he remembered. I need Bad Trev.

  He refocused himself. The group was shuffling closer and closer together as the darkness pressed in on them. Panicky breathing filled his ears.

  He let Bad Trev into the driving seat. The crystal in the centre of the Key lit up.

  ‘Here we go,’ Trev muttered, and turned it.

  He’d expected the artefact to resist him as it had done at the first attempt. To his surprise – and relief – it was much easier the second time. Perhaps having used the artefact once had increased his compatibility with it, or perhaps returning something to its rightful dimension was less difficult than forcing it out. Trev didn’t know and at that moment he really didn’t care. He rotated the Key, searching for the familiar sensations of home.

  ‘Quick as you can, mate,’ said Young. He was struggling with Barton’s weight and looking over his shoulder at the line of darkness crawling nearer. If he lost his grip, either he or Barton would fall into the shadow.

  Trev ignored the comment. All his concentration was on the artefact in his hand. He turned it carefully, moving past the roaring emptiness of the void dimension and the whispering menace of Dark Limbo. And then there it was, a feeling of cold and the rustling sounds of the night.

  ‘Got it,’ he whispered, and snapped the Key back in the opposite direction.

  Once again, everything went white.

  As the Key snatched them away from the empty hall, Trev felt rather than heard a hissing wail of frustration and anger. He might have imagined it, or maybe Oscar’s guess that the darkness was possessed of some sort of sentience was accurate.

  Freezing air enveloped Trev and he fell heavily onto bare floorboards. He came within an inch of passing out, the Key falling from his unresisting fingers. All around him were the groans and coughs of his companions. We’re back, Trev thought. Bloody hell.

  He let his eyes drift open. Lying on his side, he had a view of the house’s floor and part of a wall, lit by a stray torch that had either been left behind after their escape or dropped by one of the returning Custodians. The floorboards were scored with deep claw-marks, as was the plaster covering the wall. It appeared the barghests had been upset about losing their prey. They’d attacked anything in sight, including the door and window shutters, which had been reduced to fragments. Trev hoped they’d also turned on each other, or even better, Jack Smith himself.

  The important thing was that the barghests weren’t still there. If they had, the disoriented Custodians would’ve been dead in seconds. Trev rolled onto his front and considered making the effort to get up. As cold and hard as it was, he’d developed a little affection for the floor, as it was letting him lie on it without complaint and wasn’t trying to kill him. Just falling asleep where he was seemed a pretty reasonable option.

  ‘Stay where you are, please, all of you,’ said a voice. Annoyed at having his rest disturbed, Trev craned his neck to see who’d spoken.

  It was Barker. He was on his feet, and although he looked a little unsteady his revolver was in his hand and aimed at the prostrate Custodians. He was shuffling towards the door.

  ‘You’re still under arrest,’ said McKenzie.

  Barker pulled back the gun’s hammer. ‘You’re an admirable leader, madam, and it would be a great shame to shoot you. But if you don’t take your hand away from your weapon, I’m afraid I shall have to.’

  ‘You might as well give yourself up,’ McKenzie replied. ‘We’re going to find you sooner or later. You helped save lives tonight and I’ll make sure that’s taken into account.’

  ‘I appreciate the offer.’ Barker sounded like he meant it. ‘But while I have no desire to live as a fugitive, neither do I wish to spend the rest of my days in a prison cell. I suggest that you leave me be, and I will be of no further trouble to the Custodians. If I am forced to, however, I will defend myself. That outcome would be regrettable for both parties.’

  ‘Any outcome that doesn’t involve you putting down that gun is regrettable,’ said McKenzie. ‘Last chance, Barker.’

  Barker inclined his head. ‘Perhaps, madam, perhaps. Though I’m afraid that my mind is made up.’

  Trev heard footsteps and saw Sarah on her feet, moving to join Barker. The assassin’s face showed a flicker of surprise.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he said to her. ‘You might be better served to stay here.’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Sarah, wait,’ said Trev, dragging himself onto one elbow. ‘Please.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Trev,’ Sarah said, ‘but I think I’m safer with Ezekiel for now.’

  Trev searched for a persuasive argument against that statement, and came up blank. Being in his company wasn’t safe. It was a simple fact. The five Custodians who’d lost their lives that night were a silent testament to it. As much as he wanted Sarah to stay, it wasn’t in her best interests.

  ‘I understand,’ he said.

  Well done, said the little sarcastic voice in his head that always seemed to pop up at the most inopportune moment. You’re officially less safe to be around than one of history’s most notorious murderers.

  ‘Very well,’ said Barker. ‘For both my sake and yours, Mr. Irwin, I hope we do not meet again.’

  He disappeared out into the night. Sarah gave Trev a sad smile and went after him. She didn’t look back.

  There was a long pause which was eventually broken by McKenzie shouting ‘BOLLOCKS!’ at the top of her voice. Trev couldn’t have put it better himself. Mentally, physically and emotionally, he was as crushed as he’d ever been.

  ‘Right,’ said McKenzie, slipping back into her usual businesslike tone, ‘first up we need to get Barton some treatment. Sajid, call it in. I don’t know what happened to the backup I requested but we need a clean-up team out here ASAP.’

  Rahman nodded. He pulled his radio from his belt and stood up. Trev tried to follow suit but was forced to give in once he’d reached a sitting position. He put his back to the wall and watched the activity taking place around him. McKenzie walked over and crouched in front of him.

  ‘Thanks for getting us back,’ she said. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix,’ Trev replied, giving the standard British response to any form of illness short of death. His attempt at nonchalance was undermined by the coughing fit that followed.

  ‘There’s a medical team on its way,’ said McKenzie. ‘You probably ought to get yourself checked out. You don’t look good.’

  ‘Just getting my breath back,’ said Trev. ‘I’ll be al
l right in a bit.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ said McKenzie. She put a hand on his arm. ‘In the meantime, could you give me the Key? I think I ought to hold onto it for now.’

  ‘I dropped it when we arrived,’ Trev said. ‘It should be on the floor somewhere.’

  McKenzie swung her torch across the floorboards. There were claw marks, brick dust and a few drops of Trev’s blood, but no ancient artefacts.

  ‘Ah,’ said Trev, feeling his spirits drop even further. ‘Barker must’ve taken it.’

  This time McKenzie didn’t limit her outburst to a single swearword. She turned away from Trev and unleashed a volley of foul language that was breathtaking in its length, volume and variety. Even Trev, who considered himself something of a connoisseur of profanity, learned a few new terms. When McKenzie had finished he briefly considered applauding, before deciding against it. He didn’t think it would’ve gone down well.

  ‘Er, sorry,’ he said instead.

  McKenzie took a breath, patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

  The Custodians’ missing backup made their appearance a few minutes later. It turned out they’d originally arrived not long after Trev had first used the Key, to find the site deserted except for the bodies of Douglas, his minder and the three Custodians. They’d been searching the local area for the rest of the team when they received Rahman’s radio call.

  Trev was glad they hadn’t turned up while the barghests were still around. He didn’t want any further deaths on his conscience. He sat there and watched while Barton was stretchered out and the more minor injuries were treated. He was offered medical assistance himself and waved it away, though he did accept some antibacterial wipes to clean the blood off his face. There wasn’t anything else that could be done for him. Whatever damage the forced recharging had caused, it couldn’t be fixed with bandages and painkillers. It was possible it couldn’t be fixed at all.

  Young came over and helped him to his feet. ‘Look, I reckon you feel bad about the people we lost,’ the big man said, accurately gauging Trev’s bleak expression. ‘I do, too. But you ought to think about the people you saved instead. My wife still has a husband and my kids still have a dad because of you. I won’t forget that.’

 

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