by Derek Landy
“Which was?”
“An offering.”
“A soul?”
For the first time, discomfort flickered across Jesper’s face.
“It’s usually a soul,” Amber pressed. “That’s what I’m told, anyway. How many were they asking?”
Jesper looked away. “One a year until the contract expired.”
Milo reverted. “So who decided it should be the souls of children, Mr Mayor?”
There was some part of Amber that was aware of how horrible that was, and yet it failed to rouse her anger. She didn’t mind. With her horns on, she was enjoying the look on Jesper’s face too much to bother with feeling outraged.
“I’m assuming it was a practical necessity,” Milo continued. “A man of your age couldn’t be expected to target people who might be able to fight back. Let’s face it, kids are easier to kill.”
“Is that true?” Amber asked. “You agreed to murder one child every year for a hundred years? Wow. That takes commitment, Mr Mayor. Your depravity is impressive.”
“Do not mock me,” Jesper responded.
“Hey, listen, from one monster to another, good going.”
Novak was suddenly at her side, cracking his gun into her skull. The world tilted and Amber fell to one knee.
“I’m not a monster!” Jesper shouted down at her. “I was scared! I didn’t want to die and I was scared, so yes, I agreed to it. But I’m not that person anymore.”
“If you say so,” Amber said, glaring at Novak. She looked back at Jesper. “But if the contract was for a hundred years, and that was two hundred years ago, what happened?”
Jesper calmed himself before answering. “Naberius returned to me five years before my contract expired – alone this time. He offered to extend the deal to twice its length if I would help him trap his brother.”
“Family back-stabbing,” Amber said, getting to her feet. She could relate.
“He instructed me to build a cell in the caves beneath the town, and in the middle of that cell I was to carve a circle inscribed with ancient symbols. Then I was to collapse all tunnels that led to it. He provided the keys that would form a bridge of sorts between the cell door and any other door.”
“I’ve seen one of those,” said Amber. “A brass key, right? Dacre Shanks used one.”
“Perhaps,” Jesper said. “Naberius made three such keys. I only know for certain where one of them is, the one that had been given to me. I constructed the cell. He constructed the keys. All we had to do was fool Astaroth into stepping into the circle, which would trap him for eternity.”
“But Astaroth found out,” said Milo.
“Yes,” Jesper said ruefully. “He appeared, told me he had known all along, and then explained the new plan. When the day came, he played along until the final moment, when he pushed his brother into the circle instead.”
Amber smiled. “This is all so treacherous. I love it.”
“Once Naberius was trapped,” Jesper said, “Astaroth chained him and left him to spend eternity underground. As for me, I began thinking of the day when Astaroth would come to claim my soul. So I stopped delivering the offerings to him, and instead delivered them straight to Naberius. I siphoned off his power and used it to construct the barrier around this town.”
“You’re using Naberius as a battery,” said Milo.
“It’s the only thing that will keep Astaroth at bay.”
“So the offerings,” Milo said, “the kids you’re killing, they’re being used to keep up Naberius’s strength?”
“I’m not killing them,” Jesper said quickly. “I couldn’t keep doing it, so I passed on the key to someone who could. I just … I don’t concern myself with that side of things anymore.”
Amber look at Novak. “Is that your job, then? Killing the kids?”
“We keep the peace,” he answered. “That’s not our department.”
“Is it you?” Amber asked, now looking at the burned man. “Do you kill them?”
“It is no one in this room,” said Jesper.
Amber frowned. “So who does it? Is it someone you hire? Is it a freelancer? Are you seriously saying you’ve outsourced your blood sacrifice?” She laughed. “This is crazy! I love this goddamn town! It’s all so messed up!”
“Do not mock us!” Jesper yelled in his quavering voice. “Do not mock the sacrifices made by our young people!”
“That you’re killing, asshole.”
Novak jammed his gun into Amber’s neck.
“Change back,” he said.
“Screw you.”
“Your smart mouth is getting you in trouble,” Novak said. “It’s going to get you killed right here and right now. Do yourself a favour and change back.”
Amber glared defiantly at Jesper, but when she looked at Milo he was nodding to her calmly. She gritted her teeth, and reverted.
There was no more pain from her healed fingers, but the headache kicked in immediately and she could feel the bruise from where Novak had struck her even as he tightened the cuffs. If she shifted now, she’d probably break her own wrists, so she stayed as she was. She’d had enough of broken hands for the time being.
“For the good of the town, the sacrifices must continue,” Jesper replied. He was much calmer now. “This is regrettable. What is also regrettable is your presence here, as it endangers the lives and well-being of the people of Desolation Hill. As a conciliatory gesture, I’m afraid we must give Astaroth what he wants, and hope that he’ll be satisfied with that.”
“You’re going to hand us over?” Milo asked.
“For the good of the town, I must. Chief Novak?”
Novak levelled his gun at them. “Walk,” he said.
IT WAS SOMEWHERE AROUND ELEVEN, and they drove back the way they’d come, then veered off, took a bumpy trail that someone had worn down through sheer stubbornness, until they got to the spot right on the edge of town where a police cruiser was parked, headlights on, facing the five Hounds.
“If you do this, Astaroth will kill us,” Milo said.
Novak ignored him.
“Please,” Amber said, leaning forward, “at least let us have a fighting chance. Take the handcuffs off.”
“Sit back,” Lucy warned.
“Chief Novak, please.”
“Sit back!” Lucy snapped.
Amber sat back. The handcuffs bit into her wrists.
The SUV stopped beside the cruiser. A cop was waiting for them, the guy they’d seen the previous night. They sat in silence for a moment, just long enough for Amber to start hoping that Novak would change his mind.
“Let’s get it done,” Novak said, and the car doors opened. Officer Duncan pulled Amber out into the cold night air. She didn’t struggle as she was walked towards the Hounds. There was no point.
Beyond the invisible barrier, the Hounds waited. They made no move. They didn’t say anything. They just stood there, with their beards and their stubble, wearing their sunglasses even now, as the gloom rushed in. Silently waiting. Expectant.
Duncan’s grip was solid. Amber could have shaken it off if she broke her wrists and shifted, but all it’d take would be the slightest of pushes and she’d be stumbling into the arms of the Hounds. Novak was beside her. Beside him, Milo, held by both Ortmann and Lucy.
Novak looked at each of the Hounds and they looked back.
Ten seconds dragged by. Fifteen.
Novak chuckled drily, and shook his head. “Oh, this is unfortunate,” he said at last, to the Hound right in front of him. “I would have handed them over, I really would have. If only you weren’t so smug about it.”
The Hounds, with their expressionless faces, didn’t react as Novak turned to Lucy. “Put them back in the car,” he said. “Release them somewhere else along the boundary. Your choice.”
“Sir?”
“There is no reason I can see why we should make it so easy for Astaroth’s pets.” Novak returned his attention to the Hound. “You’re going to have to
sing for your supper, dog.”
Suddenly Amber was being pulled backwards to the SUV. Duncan opened the door, practically threw her in, as Milo was shoved in from the other side. Lucy jumped in behind the wheel, Ortmann beside her, and she gunned the engine and they kicked up pebbles and dirt as they turned. Amber looked back as the Hounds got on their bikes and prepared to give chase.
“You could let us out at our car,” Milo said. “Let us lead them away from here.”
Lucy didn’t reply. Keeping a firm grip on the steering wheel, she took them through the outskirts of Desolation Hill at a blistering pace that snapped branches and almost tore the axle off the SUV. The headlights sweeping round the town’s perimeter could now only be glimpsed in the distance.
They found a small road and swerved on to it, jamming Amber hard against Milo. They straightened up and Amber was sent the other way, and cracked her head off the window. Lucy killed the SUV’s headlights and put her foot down, and trees blurred against the darkening sky.
Then Lucy braked, and Amber cursed as she almost slid off her seat entirely. Next thing she knew the door was open and Ortmann was dragging her out.
“Go,” he said. “Run.”
She broke from his grip, looked around, tried to get her bearings. Lucy took her by the arm, led her to Milo. She pointed at a tree stump ahead of them.
“That’s where the boundary lies,” she said. “Better start running.”
Milo turned to her. “Give us the keys. Let us drive out of here.”
“You run,” said Lucy.
“Give us a fighting chance, for Christ’s sake.”
“You run,” said Lucy, taking a rifle from the SUV. “We see you trying to double back, we’ll shoot you in the legs.”
They could hear it now. A motorcycle.
“You’re killing us,” said Amber.
Lucy turned to Ortmann. “Drive to the edge of Mill Farm,” she said, “headlights on full. Give a blast of the siren if you have to. Get the Hounds to follow you.”
“On it,” Ortmann said. He got in the SUV, flicked on the lights, and peeled out of there, and Lucy took a small key from her pocket and pressed it into Amber’s hands.
“Go,” she said. “Now.”
Milo started running, and Amber followed. The moment she passed the tree stump the instinctive urge to shift drained from her body. They sprinted for the trees ahead, barely making it before a Hound roared by, following the SUV.
Amber watched him go, then turned back to Milo. He was already moving on, and she quickly lost him in the gloom.
“Milo!” she whispered, and started after him. “Milo, slow down!”
Milo stopped, and while he waited for her to get a little closer he hunkered down and passed the handcuff chain under his feet so that his hands were in front of him. Before she’d reached him, he started moving again.
“She gave me the key,” Amber said. “Hold on a second.”
“We’re beyond the barrier,” he said without looking back. “That means they can sense you again. The cop driving off won’t fool that Hound for long.”
And, just to prove him right, they heard the Hound coming back.
And then more bikes, coming in from ahead. Lights cut through the trees.
“Crap,” Amber whispered.
They speeded up.
One of the bikes was close. Very close. The ground was becoming one big blanket of dark and Amber nearly tripped half a dozen times on roots or logs or vines or rocks, but she kept going, and kept going faster, and the bike was getting even closer, but its light was off and it was hard, it was impossible, to tell where it was, as there was sound all around them now, and then she stumbled on to a road in time to see a bike slam into Milo and flip him into the air.
“Milo!” she yelled, and the Hound braked and swung round 180 degrees in a sudden cloud of smoke, the headlight snapping on, and Amber ducked back before she was seen.
Milo rolled to a stop, and the Hound rode back to him slowly.
Amber watched Milo prop himself up on to his elbows and try to get his knees under him. The Hound passed, then stopped, leaned his bike on its kickstand and got off. He had a chain in his hands, a heavy one, and he twirled it. Milo got to one knee and the Hound lashed the chain against the side of his head.
Another Hound roared up, and Amber shrank back as the headlight searched the darkness around her. When it was safe, she looked again. The Hound with the chain had attached it to Milo’s handcuffs while the other one circled them, then rode off. The Hound with the chain attached the other end to the back of his bike, and got on.
“No,” Amber whispered.
The bike revved and shot forward, and the chain went taut and jerked Milo after it.
Amber couldn’t help it. She leaped from cover and screamed, but Milo was already gone, dragged away into the darkness.
She stood there, her thoughts a horrified jumble. The bike’s tail lights disappeared round the bend. The road looped. If she was lucky …
She broke left, running into the trees, her shoes slipping on the incline. She could have cleared this little hill with no trouble as a demon, but she wasn’t going to let her own natural weakness stop her. Not this time.
She got to the top, met the road again as the first Hound passed. Gasping for breath, she crouched in the dark and waited. To do what? What the hell did she think she was going to do? If she shifted, she’d break her damn wrists, and then what good would she be to Milo?
The key was tiny in her freezing, slippery hands. She managed to get a good grip and tapped it against the cuffs, searching for the keyhole.
“Come on,” she snarled to herself. “Come on, you useless piece of …”
The second Hound was approaching now, at speed. Amber could see Milo behind it, swinging wide on the chain. The road had ripped his shirt, and torn his boots and pants and underwear clean off. He was a bloody mess beneath it.
The key sank into the keyhole and hope flared in her chest. The Hound passed where she was crouching, dragging Milo with him.
Amber held her hands close together so as not to jar the key loose, and crossed the road and started up the next incline. Her legs were burning, screaming at her, but she kept going, kept climbing, aware of the other bikes now, roaring up from all directions. They could sense her close by, but if they had the ability to pinpoint her exact position she doubted she’d be able to keep out of sight like this.
They moved up and round the bend, joining the two in front. The incline levelled out and Amber sagged, took three deep breaths and shook out her legs, and ran through the dark from tree to tree.
The Hounds had left the road and had congregated in a clearing in the woodland. She stayed out of the glare of their headlights, her clumsy footsteps masked by the engines. They were off their bikes now. One of them took a bolt cutter from his pack. The others came forward, all holding chains. They knelt by Milo, obscuring him from Amber’s view.
She refocused on the key. Tried turning it, but it jammed. Sweat stung her eyes. She looked back up as four of the Hounds walked to their idling bikes, and heeled up the kickstands. Their tail lights bathed Milo in red. He was naked, with great strips torn from his skin. Around each wrist and ankle, there was a chain. The Hounds attached those chains to their bikes.
All the strength left Amber’s body.
The bikes moved slowly, inch by inch, in four different directions, until the chains went taut. Slowly, Milo was lifted off the ground. He opened his mouth, but his cry was drowned out by the revving motorcycles.
The fifth Hound, the one on the Harley, circled the lot of them, lazily waiting for Amber to surrender herself. The revving got louder. They knew she was there. They knew she was watching. The implication was clear.
Give up, or they’d tear Milo apart.
SOBBING, AMBER RETREATED FROM the light. Her fingers trembling, she twisted the key again, then risked taking another grip and repeating the movement.
This time, it worked.
The cuff around her left wrist sprang free, and she gasped, and quickly rid herself of the handcuffs altogether. Then she shifted, and, as her skin turned red and her horns grew, her tears went away, and in place of her desperation came raw anger.
Her hands becoming claws, she jumped for the nearest tree and started climbing. She found a thick branch and crawled quickly along it. It bent with her weight so she leaped for another, swinging up into the next. She climbed some more, the night alive with the sound of the engines below her. She balanced on a branch, looked down, her teeth bared. To try to free Milo without first taking out the Hounds was a sure-fire way of getting him killed. Similarly, to attack any of the four Hounds that had him chained would also result in him being pulled apart. Which left one option, and one target.
She waited until he was about to pass directly beneath her, and she dropped.
She landed beside the Hound on the Harley, hands crashing down on to his shoulders. She yanked him off, dragged him backwards while his bike toppled, then grabbed his head, her claws raking into his face.
“Let Milo go!” she roared. “Take those chains off and let him go or I’ll kill your buddy!”
The revving quieted. The Hounds looked at her.
She had a sudden, horrible thought that maybe she’d already killed the Hound in her grip, that she’d lost her only bargaining chip. But, although the Hound wasn’t struggling, he was still staying upright under his own steam.
“Let Milo go!” Amber screamed.
Moments passed.
As one, the revving died. The four Hounds backed up a little, allowing the chains to slacken enough to lower Milo to the ground.
“Take the chains off,” Amber commanded. The Hounds got off their bikes, but didn’t move. “Do it or I’ll break his neck.”
The Hound in her grasp tried to straighten up, but she tightened her hold and put her lips to his ear.
“You try anything and I swear to God I will kill you without a second—”
