The Mortal Knife

by D. J. McCune

  ‘Yeah, but he’s still grounded, aren’t you?’ Dan sounded sympathetic.

  Archie shook his head. ‘Seriously what did you actually do? I mean, you didn’t actually kill anyone, did you?’

  Pretty much the opposite, Adam thought. ‘My parents are just really strict.’

  Dan nodded violently. ‘Yeah, I bet they’re like my parents. Always going on about doing my homework and studying and stuff, even though the exams are miles away!’

  Adam almost laughed out loud at the thought of anyone in his house giving a monkey’s uncle about homework but managed to mutter, ‘Yeah, really strict, totally obsessed with work.’ It was true, they were obsessed with work – just not the school kind.

  Spike sighed. ‘Well, until they lighten up I guess it’s up to us to keep the Beast off your back.’

  Archie grinned. ‘As long as the Beast keeps some clothes on his back I can live with that.’

  Adam managed a pleasant lunchtime in the art room with Melissa. She did insist on doing some work as her deadline loomed closer but there were still some happy minutes left devoted to hanging out and kissing her. It was tricky getting the balance right. Kissing was brilliant but he actually liked talking to Melissa. He kept meaning to give her a call in the evening after school but it was hard to find a moment when no one was snooping about and listening. He was already in enough trouble; if Elise thought he had a girlfriend as well she would whip him out of school before his feet could even touch the ground.

  He still hadn’t seen what Melissa’s artwork looked like and after the Beast’s nude photos he was starting to get worried. The theme of the piece was passion. He didn’t want to get big-headed, but there was plenty of passion when they kissed. In fact, there was a bit more passion than was really comfortable given where they were. What if Melissa was making her artwork really true to life? Adam knew there was going to be a big display of all the work in a couple of weeks. Some special guest was supposed to be coming in too. He didn’t want to have his naked flesh revealed to the whole school. His mates would never let him live it down.

  But all day, no matter how much fun he was having, gnawing at the back of his mind was the knowledge that Clotho was waiting. He’d come to the conclusion that the only way he could get there was by going straight after school. Because time moved differently in the Realm of the Fates he should have time to get there and back and still catch his bus home before any of his family noticed. It was a foolproof plan. All he had to do was get through the Hinterland without getting beheaded, eaten or torn limb from limb by whatever unknown guard was lurking out there in the gloom. With a name like ‘the Hunter’ he didn’t get the impression it would snuggle him to death.

  As the final bell rang at the end of school Adam felt a queasy sense of disbelief. He was going to do this. He was actually going to do it. He slipped into the boys’ toilets and pushed his cubicle door closed, leaving it unlocked. There was no better place for him to step into the Hinterland unseen. He waited till the last stragglers stopped spraying each other with water and ran out into the corridor, hollering and laughing. He studied the small crystal Clotho had given him. It wasn’t unlike the one they had used to go to the Summoning but it was green instead of clear, with a hint of gold gleaming at the centre.

  Stepping into the Hinterland was easy with his keystone. He began walking. It felt strange moving through the school unseen; through walls and windows and even through the staffroom just because he could (he’d always known Mr Burns and Miss Oakes were friendly but he hadn’t realised just how friendly … ). He imagined unleashing this particular ability on Archie and decided the girls in the PE changing rooms would never be safe again. That was the thing about being a Luman – there were so many ways to abuse the abilities that they had. No wonder their world had to be kept secret. If someone like Spike could get his hands on a keystone and figure out how to use it he really would end up ruling the world.

  As Adam left the school building behind and set off across the playing fields it was tempting to keep seeing the Hinterland as usual; the invisible world on top of the physical world. The trouble was this wasn’t getting him any closer to the Realm of the Fates. Now that it was time to see the true Hinterland properly Adam realised there was every chance he wouldn’t be able to get there at all. Last time he had relied on Nathanial to help him stay focused – and that was before he knew something was out there waiting to pick him off. How could he deliberately lose sight of the physical world, knowing that as soon as he did so he would become prey?

  Adam forced himself to stop. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the stone, admiring the veins of gold as they caught the light. Clotho wouldn’t have given him the stone if she didn’t think he could get to her realm. He had to do this.

  Remembering Nathanial’s advice from last time, he closed his eyes and continued walking, concentrating all his attention on the stone in the palm of his hand. Forget the physical world, he thought. This is the Hinterland, place of souls. This is a place with its own rules. Clotho’s stone felt different from the last one. It was cooler and smoother. He let it nestle there like a seed taking root and growing … and when he opened his eyes the physical world was gone.

  The shock of his success momentarily jarred him back – but he snapped his eyes closed and focused once more. Opening them and seeing the endless, grey twilight, Adam stopped and felt a rare thrill of elation. He’d done it! He’d done it all by himself! So he might not be High Luman just yet, but maybe he wasn’t quite as incompetent as he’d thought.

  He walked on, with just a hint of a swagger in his step. This was easy! After all his worrying Adam began to enjoy himself. He started jogging, loving the lightness in his body that came from being in the Hinterland. It was so weird, running across nothing but grey light. He was conscious that whatever was out there was aware of him now. Presumably the Hunter knew he was there. He paused, thinking. No one seemed to know exactly what it was – or at least no one had lived to tell the tale. He allowed himself to imagine, just for a minute, that he was going to get a glimpse before escaping to safety at Clotho’s. Maybe for once he would do what others hadn’t done and live up to the Mortson name. He could see it now: his own scrawling handwriting in The Book of the Unknown Roads, giving the first ever description of the Hunter.

  It was tempting. Adam peered into the pearlescent light, searching for the elusive guard. The Hinterland seemed endless and unchanging – but far, far off he thought he saw something and a thrill between terror and excitement shot from the top of his neck to the base of his spine. It was a shadow, nothing more, but as he squinted he was sure he could see something. This was amazing! How would he be able to go home and not brag about this?

  Usually in the Hinterland Adam could still hear the sounds of the physical world and even feel a faint trace of the wind (it always seemed to be able to cross the veil between worlds) but just as the sights of the physical world vanished in the true Hinterland, so did the sounds too. The only sound Adam could hear was the thrum of his own blood – and something else. He was sure he’d heard it the last time too, a soft rattling hiss, when Nathanial and Heinrich were talking after the Summoning. They hadn’t wanted to hang about – and anything that made a High Luman and Chief Curator cautious was probably worth giving a wide berth.

  Reluctantly Adam decided not to push his luck. If it came to it he could always tell Luc that he’d seen it (he didn’t have to let on that it was miles away). Anyway, he wouldn’t be telling anyone about this trip for a long time, if ever. Adam turned his back on the distant shadow and started walking again. He let his eyes dance through the dim light ahead, waiting for the golden edge of the doorway to appear.

  Only it didn’t. Adam stopped and frowned. Was there something he didn’t know? He’d been with Nathanial and he was pretty sure there were no magic words; his father had been talking to him not muttering incantations. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He just needed to keep walking and keep thinking about th
e doorway.

  The thing was it was hard to think about the doorway when you were thinking about something else – namely the monster that was coming to get you. The sound was getting louder, loud enough to hear over the thud of his own heartbeat. Adam turned and looked behind him, any trace of cockiness vanishing without a trace. There was something there now, that was for sure. It gave him the sense of a storm approaching, massive and unyielding, rushing closer, and some primitive instinct made him want to run, even though he knew it would overtake him.

  That’s what it wants. He realised this quite suddenly – that this Hunter, whatever it was, relied on speed and terror like any other predator. If he ran he would be running in blind panic and whatever it was would engulf him. It was getting closer now and was very hard to ignore – still far away but like watching the swift approach of a tornado. There was the same sense of a great swirling, dark, consuming energy. The dim grey light that seemed to permeate the Hinterland was fading, becoming something deeper and more opaque.

  Deliberately now Adam turned his back on it once again. It was hard when every nerve cell in his body was screaming that he should run and hide and lie down and cry and maybe it would leave him alone. He clenched his fist around the stone, feeling the smooth, hard coolness of it beneath his fingertips. The doorway was out there. He knew it was. He was going to find it and go through it.

  He walked, steady and deliberate, holding the stone in front of him like a talisman and all the time behind him the hissing, rattling was turning to a dull roar. He could feel something now, as though a thousand tiny hands were plucking at the fine hairs on the back of his neck and the fear was enough to make him forget about everything else – apart from the stone. He clutched the stone and sent out one thought: Clotho. The doorway. Help me.

  And there, ahead of him, was a thin gold line, racing like fire against the deepening gloom. It rippled out and curved and cut through the darkness until there was the outline of the door. The roaring sound behind him was deafening and something else came out of it: an awful, howling scream of rage.

  There was no more time. Adam ran.

  Chapter 15

  Adam had no time to worry about what was waiting on the other side of the doorway. As his fingers grasped the handle he had a second to wonder where he would emerge on the other side: the amphitheatre? Morta’s den? The Tapestry room? He could feel the louring presence of the Hunter close behind, blocking his capacity for rational thought. He shoved the door open and threw himself inside.

  ‘Hello, Adam Mortson,’ Clotho said. She was standing a couple of metres away from him, holding a teapot, and didn’t seem at all surprised by his sudden entrance.

  Adam turned without greeting her, desperate to close the door behind him and keep the Hunter at bay – only to find it closed already. There was just smooth wall and polished wood, where seconds earlier there had been the grey light of the Hinterland.

  ‘You are safe, Adam. Sit down and be at rest. Let me take your coat.’

  Adam peeled off his school blazer and blinked around him, feeling like someone in a particularly vivid dream. Whatever he’d expected it hadn’t been this.

  He was in what looked like a cottage from a fairy story. The room was a small parlour, with a chintz-covered sofa and armchair. One half of the sofa was occupied by an enormous cat the colour of charcoal. The floor was polished wood, covered with tasselled rugs in places. A walnut piano gleamed darkly in one corner, reflecting the mellow light from two lamps and the cheerful flames licking wood in the fireplace. A bookcase filled a whole wall, crammed with a mixture of leather-bound classics and some fairly heavy-looking medical books. A few of the titles seemed to be about genetics. The doorway he had come through was gone but there was a normal wooden door on the other side of the room. The window beside it revealed a damp green landscape beyond. Raindrops pelted against the window – raindrops that definitely hadn’t been falling on Adam in the Hinterland.

  ‘I love the rain,’ Clotho said softly. ‘It always makes me feel so cosy sitting by the fire, listening to it falling.’ As if in response to her words there was a sudden howling gust of wind outside and a fresh spatter of drops hit the glass.

  Adam sank gingerly onto the other end of the chintz sofa, keeping a careful eye on the cat. Its ears twitched and it opened one piercing green eye, before deciding Adam was no threat and going back to sleep.

  Clotho was fetching brightly patterned plates and cups. ‘I should not have worried about you getting here. With Mortson blood you were never going to be in peril!’ She smiled at him.

  Adam thought about the huge, engulfing presence of the Hunter racing up behind him. ‘I wouldn’t bet on that,’ he muttered. He cleared his throat. ‘Would you like a hand with anything?’

  ‘No need. Everything is ready now.’ Clotho placed a tray on a low walnut table and poured out the tea. She seemed shy all of a sudden, handing him a cup and saucer without making eye contact. It was only when she sat down again that she sneaked a peek in his direction. ‘I rarely have visitors.’

  Adam resisted the urge to snort. Having to dodge a monster probably put most people off knocking on the door and dropping in for a cuppa. ‘Your house is very nice.’ He hesitated, looking through the window at the darkening landscape outside. ‘Where are we exactly?’

  Clotho smiled but there was a hint of sadness. ‘The Hinterland is a barren place. We each make our own landscape.’ She leaned in conspiratorially. ‘Lachesis always keeps hers the same – a sort of apartment block. I change mine around a lot. Sometimes I like the countryside and sometimes I like the sea. I find the waves very soothing.’

  ‘I see,’ Adam said, even though he didn’t. He didn’t understand any of this. What did she want with him? The fact he wasn’t dead yet was encouraging. ‘I thought I was going to come out in the amphitheatre. You know, where we were the last time?’

  ‘I did not give you the token for the amphitheatre. That is only a meeting place. I gave you something of mine, so it would lead you to my own realm.’ She paused with an expectant look on her face and after a moment Adam realised that she wanted her token back. He scrabbled through his pocket and pulled the stone out, wiping trouser fluff off it before handing it over. ‘I realise this is strange for you. I mean you no harm, be sure of that. It is wonderful to spend time with someone so young and so mortal. Now, would you like some cake?’ She lifted a silver dome from a plate. ‘I made it myself from scratch. I used to like baking in my old life so I thought I would do things properly.’

  Adam blinked at the sudden change of direction. He eyed the sad-looking sponge with dismay. It was the only thing in the room that didn’t look as if it had fallen from the pages of a fairy story. Still, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he nodded meekly. Her face lit up and she cut him a generous chunk. It landed on the patterned plate with a heavy splat, oozing cream and jam. She watched him expectantly as he chomped through a half-cooked mouthful. He managed to swallow it and smile. ‘Very nice.’ He decided to try and distract her. ‘It was very kind of you to invite me but … you said you had something to tell me. Something about me being in danger.’

  Clotho sighed and leaned back in her armchair, nursing her cup and saucer. ‘I should not have returned to the physical realm but it was exciting. I wish I could have come down to see the ball. It’s many, many years since I’ve danced at a ball.’ Her face was wistful.

  Adam studied her. What did she mean many, many years? She didn’t look much older than Elise but there was something about the way she said it that made it sound like a long time. ‘Have you been a Fate for long?’

  ‘Oh, a few hundred years now I expect,’ Clotho said dreamily. ‘After the first century the months and years all start to merge together.’

  Adam stared at her speechless. A few centuries? How could she be so casual about it? She was the oldest creature he’d ever come across. How on earth was she still alive? Of course she wasn’t technically on the earth – she was in the
Hinterland.

  As if reading his mind she said, ‘Time moves differently here, Adam. Or maybe we are outside time. I have never really understood. Atropos was always better at that kind of thing.’

  ‘You mean Morta?’ Adam said carefully.

  Clotho’s face tightened. ‘No, not the newcomer. The last thread-cutter. We were friends, good friends.’ She paused. ‘She really was a sister to me. I miss her.’

  ‘What happened to her?’

  Clotho shrugged. ‘What happens to all of us in the end. She grew weary. It was time to stop. She was here a hundred years before I came along, so I think she had earned her retirement.’ She gave Adam a wry smile. ‘Sometimes I can understand the appeal of a nice long rest!’ She sprang to her feet with a sudden burst of energy, taking Adam by surprise. ‘Would you like to see my work? What I do?’

  Adam nodded, his head whirling. All right, Auntie Jo had said the Fates stayed in their roles for a long time but he hadn’t realised just how long. Clotho still looked like she had years ahead of her. She moved calmly around the room, setting things right and retrieving his blazer. Adam shrugged it on and only hesitated a moment when she opened the cottage door and ushered him out into the rain.

  He found himself outside a thatched cottage, perched on top of a hill. A sea of grass lay below them, sweeping down to a dark mass of forest at the bottom. The forest seemed to circle the entire base of the hill. It was like standing on an atoll in the centre of an ocean. Adam tried to see what lay beyond the forest but it blurred and faded into the falling dusk.

  Clotho raised her hand and the rain ceased in a moment. A split second later sunlight – or something very like it – bathed the countryside. ‘Rain isn’t so nice outside.’ She led him along a stony path, running behind the house.

  Adam stopped in surprise as they came to a vast wooden barn. ‘What is this?’