Skulk of Foxes

by Helen Harper

  Er… ‘I’m trying to help him,’ I said reasonably, trying to think of a logical way out of this. The trouble was that any semblance of logic appeared to have long since left Lunaria’s frazzled brain.

  ‘He’s very fragile, Mads,’ Lunaria said, earnestly. ‘If everyone in this demesne dies as a result of his actions, I’m not sure he’ll be able to live with himself.’

  I just managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. The solution was simple: all he had to do was not kill everyone and all would be well. ‘How do we stop him, Looney?’ I asked softly, praying she might have an insight into Rubus’s psyche that the rest of us had missed. Not that I agreed with her assessment of him as fragile; an arsebadgering matriarchal buffalo was more fragile than Rubus.

  She wrung her hands. ‘I don’t know. I tried to talk to him but he just yelled at me. I used to think he shouted because he didn’t like me but now I know that he acts like that because he’s too afraid of the truth. He’s too afraid to let all of us down. He doesn’t want to hurt any one of us and he’s suffering so badly for it.’

  Poor baby. I opened my mouth to tell her exactly what I thought of Rubus. That’s when I spotted the bruise snaking out from under her collar. I stared at it. No locust caused that. ‘Lunaria,’ I said quietly. ‘Has Rubus hurt you?’

  Her hand went to the purple mark. ‘He’s wrestling with demons. I have to help him with that.’

  Gasbudlikins. I gritted my teeth. ‘You have to get away from him. As you’ve said, he’s not in a good frame of mind. He’s already killed other Fey. If he hit you—’

  ‘He didn’t hit me.’ She didn’t sound in the slightest bit convincing.

  ‘Lunaria…’

  She rounded me, her eyes suddenly blazing. ‘You’re so focused on Morgan that you can’t see what really counts! Rubus needs us! He’s in pain and I don’t know how to help him!’

  I swallowed. ‘Is that why you came looking for me? Because I have to say, I’m not sure that I can—’

  ‘No.’ She turned her face away and her shoulders slumped, as if she’d finally realised that I wasn’t going to be Rubus’s saviour. Neither was she. The arsebadger was completely irredeemable. All we could do was save ourselves from him.

  Lunaria continued. ‘I came here to tell you that he sent people to sort out your friend. He likes her and he doesn’t want to hurt her, so if something happens and she ends up dying, he’ll feel even worse. I have to help him. I can’t let him hurt himself any more.’

  The blood in my veins ran ice cold. ‘He’s sent people to sort out my friend?’ There was something so chilling about that phrase that I found myself barely able to speak. ‘You mean Julie?’

  ‘I don’t like her,’ Lunaria said, her lip curling. ‘I don’t care what happens to her. But if she does end up getting hurt then Rubus—’

  I didn’t wait for her to finish speaking. I wheeled round and started running in the opposite direction. Gasbudlikins. Was all this crap ever going to stop?

  ***

  All this apocalypse-avoidance stuff was doing one good thing: it had made me considerably fitter than I was even a week or so ago. I sprinted most of the way back to Julie’s house even though it was at least ten miles. Okay, five miles. Three or four, certainly. If you rounded it up.

  Morgan and Monroe and his wolves fell in behind me, shouting after me. I didn’t have the breath to run and explain what was happening the same time. If Lunaria was telling the truth, they’d work out the problem sooner or later.

  I smelled the problem long before I saw it. Julie’s vampire nature meant that no one could cross her threshold without her permission. If they smoked her out, however, she’d have no choice but to leave and face whoever was out there. Given the thick banks of smoke blowing down her street and the strong smell of burning, someone was already laying waste to her home.

  I covered my mouth and nose with my arm and ran forward. There was no sign of any people; I assumed they’d already been evacuated by the army and were out of Manchester altogether. That was something – but it didn’t help Julie or Finn or any of the others who were holed up with her.

  Part of me expected a Fey army to be in front of her house, complete with burning torches and pitchforks and perhaps a crucifix or two. When I saw it was only one man – and realised who it was – my mouth dropped open.

  ‘Come out, vampire!’ Dave the human yelled. ‘Come and meet your maker! I am a vampire hunter and I am going to stake you through the heart and make sure you never sink your deadly fangs into anyone ever again!’

  Despite the broken windows on the ground floor and the fire inside, I slowed to a walk and continued to stare. I hadn’t seen Dave since Morgan and I came across him in an old warehouse that Rubus had reportedly once used as a hideout. Dave and Rubus had some sort of depraved quid pro quo agreement: Dave sold pixie dust to hapless Fey not already on Rubus’s side, not to mention attempting to spike Morgan with the stuff at the same time; Rubus, in return, gave Dave a selection of human drugs to enjoy personally and to sell on the streets.

  I’d rather liked Dave the first time I met him. Now I knew what a pathetic excuse for a human being he really was.

  I dragged my eyes away from him and glanced upwards. I spotted Finn hovering on the second floor, a window open to allow him to breathe. His expression was worried but, when he caught sight of me, he gave me a brief thumbs up. When the wolves and Morgan pitched up behind me, Finn began to wave enthusiastically. He was still alive and, judging by his reaction, so were the others.

  ‘Hey Dave,’ I called, ‘whatcha doing?’

  At first he didn’t hear me. He was so intent on burning Julie out of her home that I could probably have screeched in his ear with a loudspeaker and he wouldn’t have noticed. ‘I’m hunting you down! You’re not getting away this time, bloodsucker! Vampires don’t scare me! You’re an abomination in the eyes of God!’ He sang out each sentence with abandoned glee. It was quite disturbing how much he was enjoying himself.

  ‘Davey boy!’ I yelled.

  He jerked, the fact that he was no longer alone finally registering in his dim brain. He turned slowly towards me, blinking through the smoke. ‘You,’ he said. He frowned. ‘What are you doing here? Did Rubus send you?’

  I’d almost forgotten that I’d lied to Dave and pretended that I worked for Rubus just like he did. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yeah. He told me to tell you that you’ve done enough and he wants to meet you back at headquarters.’

  ‘No way! I’ve still got three Molotov cocktails. Vampires are evil! That woman deserves to be put down.’ He shrugged. ‘Besides, I never liked that stupid soap opera.’

  ‘Vampires aren’t evil, Dave,’ I told him, slowly moving closer. I hoped he would focus on me and not on the werewolves who were getting closer to the house to get everyone out. ‘I’m sure Rubus told you they were but they’re really not.’

  ‘Dracula,’ Dave said smugly. ‘He was evil.’

  ‘He wasn’t real.’

  ‘Kiefer Sutherland in The Lost Boys.’

  ‘Again,’ I said, ‘not real.’

  ‘Kiefer Sutherland isn’t real?’

  Heaven help me. ‘No,’ I said, trying to stay patient. ‘He’s real. But he was acting a part. Besides, Count Duckula was a good guy.’

  ‘Stop trying to fool me. He’s not a guy,’ Dave said. ‘He’s a duck.’

  I tried to smile. ‘Yeah, you got me there.’

  Dave had been a lot smarter the first time I’d met him. Clearly all those drugs were addling this poor boy’s brain. I straightened my shoulders and eyed him sternly. ‘You need to cease and desist, soldier. No more of this.’

  ‘Madrona’s right,’ Morgan said, coming up behind me. ‘You shouldn’t be doing this, Dave. You should get out of the city. Bad things are afoot.’

  ‘Bad things like vampires!’ Dave yelled. He reached down for another petrol-filled bottle. Gasbudlikins.

  I sneaked a quick glance at Morgan. ‘Let me handle thi
s,’ I murmured.

  ‘Because having a conversation about animated vampire ducks was helping matters?’ he enquired.

  I sighed. ‘You’re right. Let’s stop this tomfoolery and just take the idiot down. Can you manage with your arm?’

  Morgan grinned. ‘Believe me, it’ll be a pleasure.’

  ‘What are you whispering about?’ Dave said. ‘I don’t like it when people talk behind my back.’

  ‘You take the left side,’ I said to Morgan, ‘I’ll take the right.’

  He nodded. ‘Three, two—’

  There was a shout from inside the house. ‘Opulus!’ I heard Timmons shout. ‘No!’

  There was a loud crash and then the front door was flung open. Standing there, his entire body alight, was the unmistakable figure of the grieving Fey. Even his hair seemed to be on fire. He ran towards Dave and leapt on top of him.

  Dave shouted and tried to wriggle free but flames were already licking at his clothes. He squealed and choked as Opulus stopped moving and collapsed. Morgan and I sprinted forward and rolled the burning body of the Fey from Dave.

  Dave staggered to his feet. I jumped at him again, trying to put out the flames. He pushed me away but it was a wasted effort. He fell to his knees, his skin blackened and the sickening stench of burning flesh ripe in the air. Then he fell forward. It appeared that Rubus had just created another victim.

  Morgan checked Opulus and shook his head grimly. Make that two victims. Lunaria thought Rubus was fragile; I knew that he was a monster. My shoulders sagged with the pointlessness of it all. Why on earth had Rubus taken it upon himself to attack Julie of all people? It didn’t make any sense. He liked her; I’d have gone so far as to describe him as an ardent fan. What the hell was going on?

  The werewolves had created a sort of human ladder. They barely glanced in Dave or Opulus’s direction as they helped Finn, Julie and Timmons clamber down from the high window.

  Julie’s face was pure white. ‘They came at me in my house,’ she whispered. ‘I’m supposed to be safe there.’

  Monroe’s mouth flattened. ‘I’m starting to think nowhere in this city is safe,’ he muttered.

  I looked around. ‘Where’s Artemesia?’ My chest felt tight. Was she still inside, in that burning building?

  ‘She went off to her lab,’ Finn said. ‘We couldn’t stop her. She said she had to get some books and she didn’t care if anyone of us tried to get in her way.’

  That was something then; at least she was alright. For the moment. I gestured helplessly at Morgan. ‘What now?’

  He swallowed, his expression tight. ‘Nothing has really changed. We have the sphere and we still have to see it destroyed.’ He drew it out gingerly before passing it to me. ‘Keep it safe, Mads. We’ll contact Liung and set up the meet.’

  I took the sphere with some reluctance, shoving it into my pocket for now. ‘And in the meantime? Before we get hold of him?’

  Morgan ran a tired hand through his hair. ‘We find Arty and pray that she’s found a way to let off some magical steam. It’s probably just as well she ran back to her lab, even though I expressly told her not to. If she hasn’t found a way out of all this, the city might be lost for good no matter what we do.’

  Julie and Timmons gave tiny whimpers; Finn just looked grim. As if by unspoken agreement, some of the werewolves went to their sides. ‘Don’t worry,’ one said, patting Julie on the arm. ‘If all else fails, you can come and live with us in Scotland. We’ll accept your petition this time.’

  I glanced at Monroe, half expecting him to argue, but he just looked tired. He nodded tersely. ‘Lead the way to this Arty fellow. I, for one, can’t wait to get out of this shithole.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Because Morgan was Fey, his broken arm would heal quickly; I only hoped it would be quickly enough. We were marching quickly towards the denouement of our chaotic plans and if he wasn’t fully fit it would be that much harder to succeed.

  Even though we were in the relative safety of Artemesia’s little apothecary lab, the mood was downbeat. Every time we turned around, it seemed as if there were another disaster and another death to deal with. Although we were within touching distance of putting down Rubus’s plans for good, the future still appeared bleak. The continued mess of magic was barely being kept in check; rioting and looting in the city seemed to be increasing, despite the continuing evacuations and ever-growing army presence.

  ‘You know what I think I should get?’ I said to no one in particular. ‘A hat. In the stories, the Madhatter always wears a fabulous hat. I reckon I could get an impressive one. I wouldn’t even have to pay for it, I could just smash a few windows of select boutiques and take my pick.’ I patted the top of my head thoughtfully. ‘Something tall and large. I could hide all manner of helpful objects inside it.’

  Morgan offered a faint smile but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

  ‘We could all get hats,’ I continued. ‘It’d be like Ascot but for the apocalypse instead. Dressing for death,’ I proclaimed. ‘It’ll be an internet sensation.’

  ‘Except,’ Jodie said, ‘there will no longer be any internet.’

  Monroe sniffed. ‘I do not dress for death. You know why?’

  ‘Why?’ I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say.

  ‘Because I don’t die. I don’t lose. And I don’t let a bunch of trumped-up faeries who are feeling a bit homesick get the better of me.’ He drew back his shoulders. ‘I am Monroe.’

  He certainly seemed to be feeling a bit better. I looked around for a set of drums or at least a handy pair of cymbals to crash. The best I could do was a teaspoon and saucer. I tapped the spoon onto the china, immediately sending a spider web of fine cracks across its surface. Oops. Clearly, I didn’t know my own strength.

  ‘Well,’ I said, pretending not to notice my minor act of destruction, ‘I’d hate to end your winning streak. We’re going to have to do something about Rubus to avoid any further problems.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Monroe got to his feet. ‘I’ll get my wolves together and we’ll head to his lair straight away.’

  I noticed that the few wolves behind him went pale. The magic and destruction they’d already faced appeared to have put the fear of Fey in them.

  ‘Let’s not do anything rash,’ Morgan said. ‘We’re not going to beat him with brute force. He has the numbers. And the magic. We have to be smarter.’

  ‘Rubus is on the edge,’ I said. ‘He’s teetering on the brink of all-out insanity. Much more of this and he’ll be completely loopy.’

  ‘Sounds like someone I know,’ Jodie muttered.

  I didn’t take offence but I did turn to her with raised eyebrows. ‘While he maintains an element of sanity,’ I said, ‘his actions are predictable. If he goes psycho, even he won’t know what he’s going to do next. We can’t afford to sit around and twiddle our thumbs. We have to move quickly.’

  ‘We’ve hardly been twiddling our thumbs,’ Artemesia said.

  ‘I know,’ I replied. ‘I’m just pointing out that…’

  Morgan put a hand on my arm. ‘Let’s focus on the important points, shall we?’ He flicked a look at Artemesia. ‘Have you found a way to release the magic pressure in the atmosphere?’

  She grimaced. ‘Sort of. It’s risky but I’m not sure there’s much choice at this stage. I didn’t want to go ahead until I’d spoken to you about it first, though.’

  I nodded wisely. ‘That makes sense. My superior intellect will see through any gaps in your plan.’

  Artemesia raised her eyes heavenward. ‘Give me strength.’

  I flexed my muscles. ‘I don’t have much,’ I admitted, ‘but what I have is yours.’

  She tutted. ‘Anyway, before the Arndale Centre was built, there was a restaurant-cum-nightclub called the Wishing Well. As you might surmise, it was built on the site of a wishing well. A real wishing well, with all the power and magic that you might imagine it would have. I suspect that, several generations ago,
a bunch of faeries from Mag Mell created it.’

  Jodie frowned. ‘Aren’t wishing wells super-dangerous?’

  Timmons nodded. ‘Yep. We try to keep their locations hidden. There’s no telling what could happen if the humans visited them regularly and made wishes.’ He grimaced. ‘You think things are chaotic now? Imagine what it’d be like when you could wish for whatever you wanted and it would be granted.’

  ‘Kebabs,’ I said dreamily.

  Timmons smiled. From our earlier conversations, I had a feeling that he shared my appreciation of a good spicy kebab dripping with tasty grease.

  ‘They are indeed dangerous, as Begonius says,’ Artemesia interjected.

  ‘Timmons,’ he told her. ‘Not Begonius.’

  She waved a hand. ‘Whatever. My records indicate that one of our more sensible ancestors persuaded the humans that the well was indeed dangerous. They filled it in and demolished the building above it. However the well went very deep and had various caverns inside it, which still have pockets of air and space within them. There might even be a secret passageway or two leading underneath Manchester. If those passageways exist, their locations are no longer known.’ She patted the pile of books next to her. ‘Even these babies can’t help.’

  ‘What you’re proposing,’ Morgan said, ‘is to use the old magic of the wishing well to contain the new magic that’s built up over the city.’

  Artemesia nodded. ‘You’ve got it in one. In theory, the well will contain any power I filter down into it.’

  Monroe didn’t look impressed. ‘In theory?’

  She tugged at her earlobe. ‘Until I try, I won’t know for sure.’

  ‘What’s the worst-case scenario?’ I asked. ‘If it doesn’t work and the magic seeps out?’

  ‘The whole city will collapse into a giant sinkhole.’ She said this so matter-of-factly that it seemed a very real possibility. Ah. ‘The well is the best I could come up with on my own and with such short notice. I’m sure you’ve noticed that our magic-related problems, even without the sphere, are growing worse by the hour.’