Half Bad (The Half Bad Trilogy)

by Green, Sally

“Yes, Rose is a rare White Witch. Unusually talented and very able.”

  Rose blushes on cue.

  Mercury continues. “By birth Rose is a White Witch, but she is like a daughter to me now. She is at heart a true Black Witch. You, though, Nathan, are physically very much a Black Witch but I wonder about your heart. Is it that of a true Black Witch?”

  “How can I judge? As I said, I haven’t met any Black Witches before.”

  Mercury shudders and makes one wild laugh that sounds like an echo in a cavern. “We are a good mix here tonight.”

  I lean back in my chair and look at Mercury. She is horrifically thin. But not weak, nothing about her is weak. Even her gray, almost transparent skin looks like it is bulletproof. She is thin like an iron bar, and brittle, and maybe flaking here and there, but as cold and heartless as an iron bar too. Her hair is a mass of wiry gray, black, and white in a swirling pan-scrubber pile of knots and plaits, all held up by long hairpins, which she occasionally pulls out to spin on her fingers.

  She wears a long gray dress made of silk or rags, it seems, but parts of it float out when she moves or for no reason at all, as if she is underwater and they are drifting in the current.

  I’d love to find out what she knows of my father, but tonight I stick to my Giving. I get it started by offering up, “Thank you for your kindness, Mercury. For looking after me, providing me with a place to stay,” as polite as polite can be.

  She inclines her head a little in acceptance. Her dress dances around a little more.

  “And thank you for your offer to give me three gifts.”

  Again she inclines her head but as she raises it she says, “It’s your birthday soon.”

  “Eight days.”

  She nods.

  I press on with my speech. “I would like to present you with a token, to show my gratitude. Perhaps two tokens, one before the Giving and one after?”

  “That is appropriate. Yes. A small token before.”

  “It would be a pleasure. Is there anything . . . ?”

  Silence.

  She loves playing these games.

  A bit more silence before she says, “Some information.”

  I wait a bit. Give her some silence back. Then finally: “Any particular information?”

  “Of course.”

  Mercury has her elbows on the table, her fingers rub together, and a long hairpin appears, twirling between them.

  “Leave us. You two get out.” She doesn’t look at Gabriel and Rose as she gives her orders but keeps her hollowed-out stare on me. After they have gone outside the wind begins to rattle the door and the windows.

  Mercury twirls her hairpin on the tip of her finger.

  “The first favor is simple . . . a mere trifle. I’d like you to tell me all you know about those tattoos of yours.”

  “And the other favor?”

  “Slightly more difficult . . . but perhaps not for you.”

  She stabs the hairpin into the table and moves it backward and forward until it comes free again.

  “I can’t agree unless I know what the favor is.”

  “There aren’t many other options open to you, Nathan.”

  Mercury stabs the table again.

  I fold my arms and wait.

  Her mouth muscles tighten further, and then I struggle not to jump back as she lets out a wild cry, her laugh. The wind howls and Mercury leans across the table to me. Her hands raise and the pin reappears, spinning in her fingers. She speaks, and her breath is ice on my face.

  * * *

  “Why do you want him dead?”

  I’m curious rather than angry.

  Mercury leans back in her chair and looks at me, I think, though her eyes are just black chasms in her skull. “He has taken a life from me. The life of someone precious. And I intend to take a life from him. And as the only life he holds precious is his own, that is the one I will take.”

  “Whose life did he take?”

  “My sister. My twin sister, Mercy. He killed her, viciously. He ate her heart.”

  Mercy wasn’t on the list of people my father has killed.

  “I’m sorry about your sister, but killing Marcus won’t bring Mercy back. And Marcus is my father.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “I get the feeling that if I say yes but then fail to fulfill my obligation there will be consequences.”

  “Of course. For you, your family, your friends. I detest those who break a deal. They must pay the highest price.”

  “Then I think your price may be too high.”

  She reaches over me with a finger and strokes the tattoo on my hand. “Your father is no hero, Nathan. He is vain and cruel and . . . if you were ever to meet him you would realize that he cares nothing for you.”

  I slide my hand away and get up. I move to stand by the fireplace. “Perhaps there is something else you might accept instead.”

  She surveys me. “Perhaps.” She gets up and comes to me and strokes her finger over the tattoo on my neck. “Yes, perhaps there is something else. Your services for a year.”

  “Services?”

  She screeches her laugh out again. “I am always in need of assistants.”

  I don’t know if I can stand being with her for a week, never mind a year. I don’t like this at all, but what did I expect? I’ve nothing else to give her.

  “I won’t kill people, if that’s what you want.”

  She steps back and spreads her hands out a little. “Well, I understand you feel like that now.” Her dress flutters. “But in time . . . your attitude will change.” And as she says it I look in her eyes and I see Kieran on his knees in front of me, a gun in my hand. I blink and look away but I’ve already felt my finger pull the trigger.

  She screeches her laugh again. “Killing is in your blood, Nathan. It’s what you are made for.”

  I shake my head at her. Besides, if I’m going to kill people, I’ll choose who they are.

  “Perhaps you don’t want three gifts after all.”

  “I’ll work for you for a year. I won’t kill people.”

  “I shall be delighted to remind you of those words in a year’s time.”

  “Do. And I’ll tell you what you want to know about my tattoos on the morning of my birthday.”

  A chilly gust slaps my face. “We are alone . . . now is a good time.”

  “I’m sure we can find time to be alone on my birthday.”

  There’s a lull, no wind, nothing but chill in the air. I wonder if she could freeze me to death—probably.

  And I’m not going to tell her all I know about my tattoos and certainly not about Mr. Wallend. But I need to work out how much I can reveal to satisfy her.

  She goes to the door and without turning to look at me says, “Pass a message on to Gabriel. There is another young person seeking my help. Gabriel must go to the meeting point in Geneva tomorrow.”

  The Eagle

  and Rose

  It’s a week until my seventeenth birthday. I’ve found Mercury and she will give me three gifts. Why do I not feel good?

  Gabriel has gone to Geneva. He said he’d be back in the late afternoon. It’s hot. The sun is dazzling. A great day for a swim. The hike to the lake takes an hour, but I stop along the way to sit and look at the valley. I’m trying to work out what to tell Mercury about my tattoos but I’m not making any progress.

  I lie back and look at the sky. The roar from the river seems loud. High above, a bird soars. It’s an eagle. A big eagle. I watch it for a long time then get up and run to the lake. I’m dizzy, almost stumbling on the path. A swim will wake me up. The lake is nothing more than a large pond really, surrounded by forest and a patch of tall grass on one side. I strip and plunge in.

  I swim out a few strokes and am numb. The lake water comes from the snow m
elt. I roll on my back and look at the uninterrupted blue of the sky and see the eagle again, not so high now.

  I watch it for a while, circling higher and higher and then dropping down lower, and then circling higher again, dropping down much lower so that I can see the individual feathers at the ends of its wings. It looks black with the sun behind it. And I sink beneath the surface and realize I’m cold inside, really cold. It’s murky underwater and there’s mud and weeds. I can see the surface above me. I can see it but it seems way above me . . . farther and farther away. I’ve stayed down too long . . . I fight back up but swallow some water.

  I’m at the surface again. Water in my nose but gulping air.

  “Relax.” It’s Rose. She’s behind me in the water. “Relax!”

  I look up to the eagle. He’s back, low, still there hanging above me. I spread my arms out, floating.

  “You’ve been in here too long. I’ll tow you in.” Rose pulls me back to the shore, rhythmically and slowly, by my hair.

  By my hair!

  “I don’t think that’s the right technique.”

  “Stop complaining. I’ve always wanted to do this . . . to rescue someone.”

  I smile and water goes in my mouth but I spit it out. I’m numb but I can feel Rose’s body with my shoulder. A small patch of warmth.

  “You can stand now.”

  “No, take me all the way in.”

  She yanks on my hair, towing me a bit farther and then splashes a few drops of water onto my face. “I think that’s far enough.”

  I find my footing in the mud and stand up. The water is below my waist.

  Rose stands too. Her dress clings transparently to her curves and I have to look away.

  She giggles. “Are you blushing, Nathan?”

  I walk out of the water and let her guess.

  I drop down on the grass on my stomach, but I’m shivering.

  “You need to get dry. Can I use your T-shirt?” But she is already using it to brush the water off my back.

  I wait for the comments about my scars, but she doesn’t say anything. The sun is strong still, but inside I’m bitterly cold. I shiver and can’t stop.

  Rose lies with me to warm me. It’s strange, being so close to someone else. I’m sure Rose would slit my throat if Mercury told her to but Rose hasn’t been told to do that. She has been told to look after me. I roll away from her and dress.

  Rose has some bread and cheese in her bag and we eat it together.

  I thank her for rescuing me even though I didn’t need rescuing.

  She giggles. “I only did it to make Gabriel jealous.”

  “Of me?” I didn’t think Gabriel was interested in Rose.

  “No.” She giggles and shakes her head.

  I’ve no idea what she’s scheming.

  “He would love the chance to rescue you. To show you how much . . . you know . . .” Rose giggles again. “To show you how much he loves you.”

  “What?”

  “He’s in love with you. Totally in love with you.”

  Rose is just winding me up. “He’s my friend.”

  “Totally. Desperately. Madly. And, alas, it seems, hopelessly too.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “Oh, he wants to be so much more than your friend, Nathan.”

  I shake my head. Gabriel is Gabriel. He likes being with me for sure. I like being with him. We climb and swim and talk. That’s what friends do, I thought.

  He gave me a present a few days earlier. A knife. I take it out and look at it. It’s beautiful. A black, leather-bound handle and black plaited-leather sheath. The blade is shaped like a bowie knife. He seemed nervous about giving it to me. I could tell he really wanted me to like it. I do.

  “Love is strange,” Rose says. She takes the knife and looks at it. “Gabriel would die to show you how much he loves you.”

  Rose looks at her reflection in the blade.

  “And who would you die for, Rose?”

  “I’ve not met that person yet.” She gives me the knife back. “Have you?”

  I think about it but don’t reply.

  She says, “You’re like your father.”

  “You’ve met Marcus?”

  “Once. Ten years ago, when I was twelve. You look like him. Exactly. You sound like him. Even your silences are like his.”

  “You remember that from when you were twelve?”

  “He was memorable . . . and I’m not your average thick Shite.”

  “No, you’re certainly not, Rose. Did you go to see Marcus or did he come to see Mercury?”

  “He came to Mercury. He asked her for a favor. She refused, of course.”

  “Because Marcus had killed Mercy?”

  Silence. She’s letting me work it out.

  “What was the favor, Rose?”

  She giggles. “Maybe I’ll tell you . . . maybe not.”

  She lies on her side to look at me.

  “I love teasing you, Nathan. You get so wound up so quickly. It’s fun to watch.”

  “Was Marcus like that? Quick to get angry?”

  “I didn’t see him for more than a few minutes. He seemed quite calm to me. Mercury was rather more full of fury at the time.”

  “And the favor was?”

  “Can’t I drag it out a bit more . . . make you wait a little longer?”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  She giggles again. “The favor he asked of Mercury was that she should bring up his son. You. She refused. She doesn’t like little boys much.”

  “Except in stew.”

  Rose giggles again.

  Mercury had said my father cares only for himself. She lies about everything. But Marcus must know that too, so . . .

  “Why did he ask Mercury for her help?”

  “I think she considers she made the wrong decision now. She would like to have a hold over Marcus. But at the time she was too angry about Mercy.”

  “But why did he ask her?”

  “He thought Mercury should help. You are related, after all.”

  “Mercury is my relative?”

  “Her twin sister, Mercy, was the mother of Saba.”

  What?

  “Marcus killed his own grandmother?”

  “Not that unusual. But not something that Mercury is ever going to forgive. She loved Mercy. There can be no getting over that. Mercury might not die for the person she loved but she’ll kill for her. It makes me laugh. Black Witches are always killing their relatives, wives, lovers. Shites should just leave them to it and there’d soon be no Blacks left.”

  I look up to the sky again. No eagle. Mercury is my great-great aunt . . . And my father has been watching me, watching out for me all my life.

  Trusting Gabriel

  I go back to the cottage and wait on the grass for Gabriel.

  I’m excited about my father, pleased—elated even.

  I want to tell Gabriel. But late afternoon turns into evening and then night. I forget my joy and think about Hunters. Geneva is crawling with them and Gabriel is too casual. He could easily make a mistake or be betrayed by the person he is supposed to be meeting or by one of the Half Bloods he keeps warning me about.

  It’s nearly midday the following day when Gabriel appears on the cottage roof. He doesn’t smile; he looks like he hasn’t slept.

  I tell him he looks terrible.

  Now he smiles. “So do you.”

  I leap up on to the roof and sit by him.

  He says, “There’s a perfect English word for how I feel.” He flops back. “Knackered.”

  “You didn’t try bumping into more Hunters?”

  “No, but it got complicated. We had to make a detour . . . a serious detour. I wanted to spend the night with Pilot—she lives farther out of Geneva�
��but she took one look at the girl who was with me and said no. The girl’s a White Witch, as pure as they come, says she’s fleeing from the Council. But I don’t know what to believe. The girl was freaking out as well, which didn’t help. Basically it was a mess.”

  “So where is the girl now?”

  “In the apartment. Though I wasn’t sure about taking her there. I don’t trust her at all.” Gabriel shakes his head. “She won’t talk to me, says she will only speak to Mercury and, as you know, I can’t help her until she tells me more. She won’t. I won’t. We went round in circles for a long time. Physically and verbally.”

  “It all sounds rather convenient that someone is fleeing from the Council and needs Mercury’s help when they are searching for me. Do you think she’s been sent by the Council or the Hunters?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t work her out. She’s exhausted me. I need to forget her for a while and relax. I have some news from Pilot for Mercury. Then we can go for a swim.”

  We wait for Mercury on the roof. I tell him what Rose told me about Marcus killing Mercy and then I tell him about the eagle. And that is when Mercury appears. She must have been listening to everything.

  Mercury wants to know more about the eagle. Like me, I think she wonders if it’s Marcus.

  I don’t answer but instead ask her, “Do you think Marcus watches me?”

  I expect her to laugh. I feel ridiculous as soon as I say it.

  She says, “He cares only for himself, Nathan. If he watches you it is for his own ends.”

  And I can see that if Marcus thinks I’m going to kill him he would want to keep an eye on me. But I’m his son, his only son. And if I had a son I would watch him, and I would want to meet him too. I would want to see him in the flesh, to touch him as a child and hold him. But Marcus hasn’t ever come to see me, to hold me and—

  “And you met the girl, Gabriel?”

  “Yes. She’s at the apartment. I don’t trust her, but it’s the only place I could leave her. Pilot gave me another message for you. She told me that Clay was in Geneva. She said, ‘Clay has the Fairborn.’”

  Mercury laughs her howl of a laugh, practically skips on to the roof, and grabs our hands. Roof tiles fly up and we seem to hover in the air on an upsurge of wind before she lowers us to the grass.