The Mortal Knife

by D. J. McCune

  Adam shuddered. When she put it like that, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all if he never managed to come of age …

  An hour later they were all ready. Adam stood in the hallway and looked at his family with a peculiar mixture of pride and embarrassment. His father and Luc were dressed almost identically to him. Aron’s outfit was the same except for a strange white wrap-type shirt that exposed most of his chest, ready for the Marking. Auntie Jo had thrown a gauzy silver cape over her purple dress and Elise looked stunning in an elegant black dress with a lace cape, her blonde hair curled.

  But the real surprise was Chloe. She was the last to arrive, walking carefully down the stairs in gold-heeled sandals to match her golden ballgown. Her hair was pinned up and woven through with gold threads and glittering crystals. Adam’s jaw dropped as he looked at his younger sister. She looked ten years older and impossibly glamorous. He was momentarily glad none of his friends would ever meet her or he’d never hear the end of it.

  She stopped beside Adam, chewing her lip. Nathanial kissed her cheek and said, ‘You look beautiful, Chloe.’ He looked happy and sad at the same time.

  For once Luc didn’t say anything funny and even Auntie Jo was looking a little shiny-eyed. ‘Well, if that dress doesn’t catch you a High Luman I don’t know what will.’

  Elise stepped over to her daughter and tapped beneath her chin. ‘Head up! And smile, my darling, smile.’

  Aron was flushed and nervous. ‘Who’s got the whisky?’

  ‘Not too much, Aron,’ Nathanial said not unkindly. ‘Just a few more sips.’

  Adam shuddered and found himself wishing the whole thing was over. As if on cue the front door knocker crashed, making everyone jump. Heinrich entered, smiling. He paused and took a moment to look at them each in turn. ‘My dearest Mortsons. How wonderful to be with you all today.’ He embraced Nathanial, kissed Elise on both cheeks and shook Aron’s hand firmly. ‘The Concilium waits outside. Shall we proceed?’

  Aron cleared his throat. ‘Let’s get it over with.’

  ***

  A few minutes later Adam was sitting on a simple wooden chair in an underground room. His family and the Concilium had walked out into the garden and through the concealed cellar doors in the lawn behind one of the yew trees. Down a torch-lit flight of stairs a passage veered off in two directions. To the right were the vaults and crypts where Keystones and dead Mortsons rested respectively. To the left were the celebration chambers they would be using later.

  And straight ahead through an ornate iron door was the Oath Chamber. It was a large, oval-shaped room with a black marble floor and panelled walls carved with scenes from Luman lore and history. At the far end a high stool and small table had been placed on a raised plinth. To one side was a heavy wooden throne, covered in black velvet cushions and drapes. Two chairs faced the throne on the other side of the stool.

  The rest of the chairs were some distance away, arranged in arcs facing towards the business end of the chamber. Adam was seated between Luc and Auntie Jo, with Elise and Chloe sitting nearby. The Concilium were there too, sitting in silence – apart from Heinrich. He was at the other end of the room, helping Aron onto the high wooden stool, then sitting down beside Nathanial, who was smiling reassuringly at Aron.

  The cloths on the throne moved and for a moment Adam almost yelped a warning – until he realised that what he’d mistaken for some kind of malevolent supernatural cushion was actually a tiny human swathed from head to foot in heavy black fabric. The figure turned towards them and bowed but the face was obscured by a thick panel of lace. Adam sucked in a breath. He was looking at the Crone.

  She nodded at Nathanial and Heinrich but ignored poor Aron completely. She turned her attention to the table. Heinrich raised an eyebrow at Elise and said, ‘Shall we begin?’

  Elise stood. Soft-footed and graceful, she walked the length of the chamber holding a silver dish. As she reached her eldest son she paused and simply looked at him for a long moment. Nathanial stood and joined her, taking the silver dish from her. Elise cleared her throat, raised her hands in the air and began to speak. ‘These are the hands which have fed you.’ She took a piece of fruit from the dish and gently placed it in Aron’s mouth. ‘Now they will feed you no more.’

  Adam gave Auntie Jo an alarmed look. She opened one side of her mouth and whispered, ‘Don’t worry, he isn’t going anywhere. They used to marry them off straight after the ceremony and then their new brides would take over all the cooking. It saved having two parties. They just haven’t bothered changing the ceremony words.’

  Elise lifted a white cloth from the dish and held it to Aron’s forehead. ‘These are the hands which have comforted you. Now they will comfort you no more.’ There was a slight tremble in her voice but she continued, ‘I brought you here as my child. Today you will leave as a man.’ She kissed Aron’s cheek tenderly, then turned and slipped back to her seat, her eyes shining.

  Nathanial held out his hand silently and Aron reached for the keystone round his neck, pulling the thin chain over his head. Nathanial took the keystone and clasped his son’s hand in his. ‘I brought you here as my child. Today you will leave as a man.’ He turned to the Crone and bowed his head, placing the keystone in her gloved hand. She took it without a word as Nathanial returned to his seat.

  Adam swallowed hard. This was the bit he’d been dreading. He tried to tell himself that the gore would be good practice for being a doctor. The Crone turned to her table and placed the keystone in a stone mortar, then picked up her pestle and began to grind.

  Adam hissed to Auntie Jo, ‘Is she grinding up his keystone?’

  Auntie Jo shook her head almost imperceptibly. ‘Of course not. We’d be here for days. She’s already been sent a chip from one of the family Keystones. This is just for show.’

  Sure enough the Crone had already set the mortar down and was using a tiny gold spoon to lift a heaped spoonful of charcoal powder into a small vial. She added dark liquid from a gold jug and stirred the contents. Finally she lifted a long, thin tool from the table and stepped in front of Aron, his breastbone at her eye level.

  They could tell the moment the tattoo pen touched Aron’s skin. Adam flinched as he watched his brother grit his teeth, but Aron managed to sit absolutely still. Not only was a manual pen more painful than a modern electric pen but a Luman tattoo went deeper than a normal tattoo. It had to – after all, Aron would never need a keystone again. His keystone was literally becoming a part of him, being inked into his body. Being Marked would make him forever a Luman.

  Being Marked also took a very long time. Adam watched the Crone’s hand dart in and out with tiny, precise movements and winced. Aron’s jaw was clenched and his lips were thin lines but somehow he wasn’t making a sound. Adam pressed his finger against his sternum, amazed at how tender even a fingernail was, never mind the viciously sharp tattoo pen. Yet again he pondered if he could avoid getting Marked for the rest of his life. Or at least if he could become a doctor first he might be able to get his hands on some local anaesthetic …

  He felt Luc’s elbow in his ribs. ‘When I come of age I’m going to get my tat on the back of my neck.’

  Adam winced again. ‘Why?’

  Luc shrugged. ‘Chest tattoos are OK if you live somewhere sunny but seriously – how often will you get to show it off in London? On the neck – it’s an all-year-round babe magnet.’

  Adam snorted. The Mortson seal – a flaming torch in a black circle – wasn’t exactly the typical dolphin or Celtic armband tattoo. ‘Not exactly keeping the Luman world a secret, is it?’

  Luc smirked. ‘Chicks love a mystery.’

  Elise turned to them with the ladylike smile of a Luman hostess – and the eyes of a psychotic killer. They shut up then to avoid being flayed alive once the guests had gone home. It reminded Adam of Melissa and her laser eyes. Fleetingly, he found himself wishing she was there. What would she make of it all? The hooded cloaks, the underground chamber, t
he candles, the savage ritual playing out in front of them? For him it wasn’t exactly normal but it wasn’t scary either. If he brought Melissa down here she’d probably punch him on the nose, call the police and tell the newspapers about her near-miss with a fiendish cult in their underground lair.

  The thought depressed him. His friends would probably take it better. Spike would watch the proceedings unfolding and start plotting how to become Chief Curator. Archie would be too busy sketching the whole scene to give it much thought, while Dan would be torn between the delights of finding himself in a vaguely Tolkienesque world – and worrying what his mum the psychotherapist would make of it all.

  These gloomy thoughts passed the time more effectively than he realised and before he knew it the Crone was stepping away from Aron and setting down her pen. She bowed her head at him and returned to the throne. Nathanial and Heinrich helped Aron to his feet. His face was very pale and his cheeks and chest gleamed with sweat but he managed to bow to the others and say in a small voice, ‘My Light is your Light.’

  The Curators stood up and said in unison, ‘Our Light is your Light.’

  Heinrich embraced Aron, careful to avoid crushing his tender flesh in a bear hug. ‘We congratulate our newest brother. Welcome, Aron Mortson, to manhood. Give no Luman cause to take away the Mark you rightfully bear.’ He turned to Elise. ‘We will now hear Aron’s oath. We look forward to joining you shortly for the celebration.’

  His easy courtesy couldn’t quite hide the fact that the women and children weren’t allowed to hear this part of the ceremony. Of course Elise would never do anything other than incline her head graciously and say, ‘Of course, Chief Curator.’ She rose to her feet and indicated that the others should follow her. Adam dutifully fell into line and trooped out of the chamber, back into the passageway.

  The heavy iron door thudded closed behind them and Chloe promptly burst into tears. ‘I can’t believe they did that,’ she wept. ‘I can’t believe they did that to poor Aron!’ She sobbed into her hand, all her sophistication deserting her. She was once again a thirteen-year-old girl in a very expensive dress.

  There was a stunned silence, then Elise swept into action. ‘Stop crying, my darling! Enough! Your make-up!’ A lace-edged handkerchief appeared from nowhere and dabbed up Chloe’s tears before they could do any damage. Auntie Jo fussed around making comforting noises.

  Even Luc seemed shaken. ‘It took longer than I thought it would. It must have hurt. Like, really hurt. Hurt a shitload!’

  Adam nodded. Inside the chamber it had all seemed vaguely normal but now they were out of the room he could see it was just one more thing to try to reconcile with his everyday life. ‘Bet you’re glad now that you weren’t the first one to come of age?’

  Luc frowned. ‘Dunno. Might be better to go into it and not actually know what happens.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Still, I’ll come prepared. There’s this cream you can get … ’

  His cunning plan was interrupted by Elise. Chloe was still subdued but her make-up was miraculously restored thanks to several tubes and a compact produced from Elise’s lace-covered evening bag. ‘We must go. Our guests will be waiting.’

  Auntie Jo rubbed her hands together. ‘Cheer up! Not long till we get the grub now!’

  They made their way along the corridor. The Oath Chamber was well soundproofed behind the heavy door but as they made their way towards the ballroom they could hear the subdued roar of a large and excited crowd. The guests had arrived during the Marking and been led to the ballroom by trusted family and friends. The passage widened and turned a corner, revealing double wooden doors, closed against them.

  Uncle Paddy was standing waiting for them, on guard duty, keeping the guests inside. ‘Elise! My God woman, you get better looking every time I see you for a fact!’ He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, then widened his eyes theatrically at Chloe. ‘And who’s this vision of beauty?’ He pretended to stumble backwards swooning and Chloe managed a watery smile. ‘You look beautiful, darling girl,’ he said, kissing her cheek.

  ‘Where’s my welcome you old rogue?’ Auntie Jo demanded.

  Uncle Paddy shook his head, apparently overcome with sorrow. ‘Ah, Josephine, don’t remind me! Don’t remind me of what I’ve missed out on! If you’d only been born a few years sooner I’d have thrown myself at your feet and let you walk over me until you agreed to be my bride!’

  Auntie Jo snorted. ‘You wouldn’t have lived to your advanced age with me walking all over you.’ She grinned and they embraced with real affection. ‘It’s good to see you Paddy.’

  ‘Well Luc, Adam.’ Uncle Paddy nodded at them. ‘How was the Marking? Did he stay quiet like a man or sing like a woman?’

  Luc grinned. ‘He never made a sound.’

  Uncle Paddy threw his hands in the air triumphantly. ‘Of course he didn’t! That’s the Mortson blood in him! He’s made of stern stuff is young Aron! Just like you two!’ He winked at Adam, who smiled hesitantly. He wasn’t sure he deserved the credit Uncle Paddy was giving him.

  Paddy turned to Elise, dropping the patter, suddenly business-like. ‘Your guests are inside, enjoying some refreshments. You’ve done a lovely job on the place.’

  Elise smiled. ‘Thank you, Patrick. It’s kind of you to say so.’

  ‘The family are all looking forward to seeing you.’ He winked at Chloe. ‘I can tell you that one young man in particular is looking forward to seeing a certain girl in a golden dress.’

  Chloe’s cheeks flushed. Elise kept smiling but her eyes were steely. ‘Yes, Chloe is looking forward to seeing all our guests this evening. Shall we go inside?’

  ‘Of course,’ Paddy said, gallant as ever. As he opened the door and announced their arrival Adam shot an angry look at his mother. If Chloe had to get betrothed at all, why didn’t Elise just let her get betrothed to Ciaron instead of casting about searching for someone more important? All right, Uncle Paddy wasn’t technically their uncle but the families were close; certainly much closer than the Mortsons were with Elise’s family. Most of their French relatives were too busy looking down their noses to be friendly.

  They were greeted by polite applause and there was no more chance to ponder the mystery of snooty relatives before a swarm of people pressed forward to greet them. Adam’s hand was shaken and his cheeks kissed until both were burning. The room was bursting. Hundreds of people had turned up to see the newest Marked Luman and they were dressed for a party. Elise fell into step as the perfect hostess, greeting all her guests graciously, admiring the height of sons and the dresses on daughters.

  Luc was watching the whole spectacle with sardonic pleasure. ‘So, time to suss out the talent. Do you want me to find Monobrow for you? You know, the babe we spotted at the Summoning? I thought she looked just right for your future wife … ’

  Adam scowled and tried to stay close to Elise. They had only managed to greet a quarter of the guests before a trumpet blew behind them. The double doors were open again and Heinrich and the Concilium were entering. The room fell silent. Heinrich spread his arms. ‘My dear friends. Allow me to present to you our newest Luman brother. I give you … Aron Mortson, Marked Luman!’

  A sheepish-looking Aron entered with a beaming Nathanial. He looked much better, in spite of the raw black mark on his chest. There was an almost hysterical roar of approval from the crowd.

  Luc grinned. ‘Let’s get this party started!’

  Chapter 12

  Two hours later Adam was sitting at a long bench with Luc and Auntie Jo. The air was rich with the scent of dishes from every part of the globe. Adam stared at the mountain of food on his plate, wondering where to start.

  At least he’d been able to take off his heavy ceremonial cloak. After his rapturous welcome, Aron had to greet the guests, receiving gifts from the men and kisses from the women. At this point the girls and women had vanished to lay out the food for the feast ahead while Aron was being fêted by the crowd. Finally, flushed with adren
alin and embarrassment he had led the formal procession of Marked Lumen into the feasting hall.

  All the unmarried girls stood behind a long bench, platters and bowls of food on display in front of them while their mothers fluttered about behind. It was all a bit surreal; girls in beautiful dresses and heels standing serving soufflés and samosas. The trouble was that being a Luman wife meant being a hostess, so looking good wasn’t enough – you had to be able to cook and entertain your guests too. Adam imagined Melissa standing beside him and died a little inside. She’d think she’d stepped into some kind of awful costume drama.

  Food had been heaped on his plate until it wouldn’t hold any more and only then had Adam made his escape to the table. Luc had somehow managed to carry three plates back with him, which Auntie Jo was taking full advantage of. None of the girls had wanted to give her any food – after all, she wasn’t exactly a prospective husband. Adam picked through the mess of dishes on his plate without appetite. It was all so cringeworthy. He glanced up at the far end, where Aron was sitting in the place of honour with his father and the Concilium. Elise’s seat was empty; no doubt she was checking on Chloe’s progress and pretending that she hadn’t helped her daughter with the elaborate concoction Chloe was serving.

  Auntie Jo scraped the last morsel from her plate and burped discreetly. ‘Lovely. Some of those girls should be professionals. Their talents are wasted at home.’

  Luc raised an eyebrow. ‘You know, since you’re not married, shouldn’t you be up there? You should be catching a husband.’

  Auntie Jo smiled. ‘Funnily enough, I was always better at eating the food than cooking it. Your mother on the other hand is a fabulous chef and barely eats a thing. Oh, the cruel irony of it all!’

  ‘But you must have done this when you were younger? You know, when you were a teenager.’

  Auntie Jo’s smile faded a little. ‘That was a million years ago. Back when dinosaurs walked the earth and all that. Anyway, you’ll all have to marry good cooks and then at least I’ll be well fed when I come and visit.’