Her beak snapped and clattered. Hag glared around her, at first seeing nothing. Then she realised there were ghosts huddled on the roof tiles beside her. Ghosts had dared interfere with Anfled of the Dark? She began to puff her chest feathers, ready to give these ghosts a piece of her mind, when one darted forward. Her beak agape, Hag tilted her head, a glittering eye fixed on the ghost. She concentrated and listened.
‘All right. Take me there.’
The ghosts streamed away, a line of wispy smoke. Hag followed, watching them dive down to a house set back from a narrow road amidst an overgrown garden. Yes, as they’d said, she could sense only one living body within.
Drengle List knocked over his chair in his haste to get out of the way when an enormous black raven glided into the kitchen and landed on the table. Hag was pleased by the man’s look of terror and she turned to the woman who still sat at the other end of the table. As she moved she knocked over a pot with some flowers stuck in it.
‘I have no idea who you might be, but you can get off this table at once.’
Hag’s beak gaped in silent amusement. She did like people who stood up to her, particularly women.
‘The ghost said you are called Snail,’ her hoarse rasp sounded over loud.
Snail’s hand tightened round her tea bowl. ‘I am,’ she agreed.
‘I think we might be friends.’ Hag hopped from the table to the back of a chair, her wings half spread while she found her balance. ‘So you may call me Hag.’
Snail inclined her head politely, trying to appear quite at ease. At least this monstrous bird didn’t inspire the same cold horror that Ferag had managed to impart.
‘I shall tell them to come here,’ Hag announced.
Snail cleared her throat. ‘Tell who dear?’
She was astonished when the bird ducked her head almost coyly at Snail’s thoughtless endearment.
‘Jemin and Tika.’
Snail frowned. ‘Jemin?’ The name was vaguely familiar but she couldn’t think where she’d heard it.
Hag snapped her beak, but gently. ‘Prince Jemin.’
‘Oh my,’ Snail’s hand went to her bosom. ‘But we heard he was dead.’
‘No, no. Seola brought him to the Dark Realm years ago.’
‘That bloody woman,’ Drengle blurted out, and froze when Hag turned her head in his direction.
‘You mean Seola? I don’t like her much either. She and her brother are always so impertinent.’ She was disappointed that Drengle List offered no further insult against Seola. He was trying to pretend he was invisible.
‘Why are they coming here?’ Snail asked a trifle unsteadily.
‘To kill that woman I suppose. And the thing that’s creeping about the streets. They’re bringing friends with them.’
Hag studied Snail’s pale face. ‘You will be quite safe if you stay in this house. My dear,’ she added almost shyly.
Snail struggled to produce a smile. ‘Thank you. When should we expect these – erm – guests?’
‘Tomorrow I think. I have to go and tell them about the things in the streets. Well,’ she corrected herself. ‘I don’t have to tell them you understand, but in this instance I choose to be helpful.’
Hag hopped down from the chair to the floor. Ghosts had gathered in a thick mass, just outside, and Hag hissed at them.
‘Guard this house well,’ she commanded then pushed through them, her wings powering her upwards.
‘Simert’s Balls in a frying pan.’ Drengle righted his chair and sank onto it.
‘Language dear.’ Snail spoke automatically.
‘But what will we do? We don’t want no princes here. We don’t want nobody.’
‘I don’t think we have a choice in the matter Drengle, but they won’t be stopping long I’m sure.’
‘I hope they don’t. I’ll be busy in my room tomorrow anyway. I probably won’t see them.’
Snail nodded, only half listening. ‘What did she mean I wonder, about things in the streets? Creeping about?’
Drengle stood up again. ‘And she said they were coming to kill “that woman”.’ His voice rose in panic. ‘What woman Snail, what woman?’
‘The Imperatrix Drengle. You know full well that’s who she meant.’
Drengle rushed to the door leading to the hall. ‘I won’t have nothing to do with such things. It’s treason, that’s what it is. You get executed for treason.’
‘Drengle, you are already dead,’ Snail pointed out gently.
But Drengle List was already halfway up the stairs, muttering fiercely to himself. Snail sighed and got up to make some fresh tea. While the kettle heated, she cleared up the pot of flowers Hag had knocked over. She fervently wished that she wasn’t involved in any of this but, at the same time, she was glad to be here in Gossamer Tewk’s house. It felt much more secure than her own house had become, and she clung to Hag’s statement that she would be safe here.
In the darkening streets, what had been Tomin the anatomist was gone completely, subsumed by the tusked creature’s raging blood lust. He killed indiscriminately, leaving behind him drained husks. He had yet to notice the others, similar to him but not, who hunted other streets, other prey. Somehow, with Ternik’s death, a portal had been wrenched ajar, and shattered fragments had passed through to this world. Each different, each starving, each looking to dominate the puny creatures they met, and each other.
The City militia, strengthened by many units of the Kelshan regular guards, was out in full force. Corpses had been found and reported by increasingly frightened citizens. There were many creatures now, most inimical to each other, but enough worked together to oppose full units of guards with ease. The militia were efficient at handling drunken revellers on the various festival days and nights, or watching for pick pockets and petty thieves in the markets and business areas. Dealing with unknown creatures like these they now faced, from whom a miasma of evil emanated, was utterly beyond their capabilities. The regular guards hadn’t faced anything like this either, but many of them had fought, at least skirmishes, against the northern clans.
General Beslow remained at the guard post within the upper Citadel, receiving a constant stream of messengers reporting events in the City. All entrances to the Citadel were heavily guarded now, and several were closed, barred and reinforced with barricades. Beslow listened to the increasingly frequent reports with growing apprehension. He’d spoken only briefly with the Imperatrix. She was convinced it was a straightforward disturbance by the disaffected parts of the citizenry, encouraged by agents of some of the Confederacy’s states and the wild clans.
By the time Beslow had received more than a dozen reports with explicit descriptions of the state of the corpses, he knew they were in serious trouble. He returned to the Imperatrix’s suite. He explained the similarity of the new corpses to that of his man who had tailed Tomin. Then he waited as patiently as he could for Veranta to reach to the only possible conclusion.
‘You think Ternik is responsible for this.’ Veranta sounded unconvinced.
Unable to sit still, Beslow paced across to the shuttered window. ‘I would like to summon any who still study such matters.’
He knew, only too well, that Veranta had culled the mage born to the point of extinction during her years of rule. Getting anyone to admit to such knowledge now could well prove impossible, especially given that Beslow felt time was very much against them. He paced back towards his chair.
‘To answer your question my lady, I do not know nearly enough of such things, but I don’t think Ternik alone is responsible for this sudden crisis.’
‘Crisis?’ Veranta was indignant. ‘A small group of troublemakers hardly constitutes a crisis General.’
‘A crisis my lady,’ Beslow insisted. ‘So far, I have received no report that any of these “troublemakers” have been killed or apprehended, whereas the militia and the guards are taking numerous casualties and already too many deaths.’
Veranta crossed her legs, a fold
of one of her ghastly dressing gowns slipping to reveal a length of pale flabby leg from which Beslow averted his gaze.
‘So who do you think is causing this trouble?’ she enquired.
Beslow met her hard brown eyes. ‘The reports speak of only glimpsed figures, bestial shapes, monstrous creatures.’
Veranta sat up sharply. ‘Monstrous? Do you think this is an attack by the Dark Realm?’
‘Quite possibly my lady. It seems an odd coincidence that your “expeditionary force” has returned no word to us of their success or otherwise. I would have expected some sort of information to have got back here. I fear this could well be a preliminary attack upon Kelshan.’
‘Are there enough guards within the City?’
Beslow shrugged. ‘I hope so, but I have summoned men from the north western garrison. They are nearest to us and should reach us by midday tomorrow. Riders have gone to other garrisons.’
Veranta reached for the decanter on a side table and refilled her glass.
‘If these are magical creatures,’ her lips thinned in distaste at having to speak such words. ‘How shall we combat them?’
‘I am on my way to the infirmary my lady. It is just possible someone there may know more than they might normally admit of such matters.’
‘I would doubt that,’ Veranta said. ‘They swear allegiance to me when they take up their posts and they know the laws concerning magery.’
Beslow was not surprised by Veranta’s wilful blindness on this subject but it made him feel tired. He saluted.
‘I ask that you remain in these rooms my lady. The immediate vicinity is secure and there are two units of guards at both entrances to your suite to ensure your safety.’
He saw by her slightly vacant expression that she really had no idea of the dangers facing the City and, quite probably, herself. He checked that the guards fully understood their orders when he left the Imperatrix and hurried down to the lower level.
Beslow spent an infuriating time in the infirmary. His questions were met with innocent ignorance. Of course no one had any knowledge of mage powers: it was against the law, was it not? Furious, he strode back to the post he’d taken over to find messengers milling both inside and on the staircase without. He’d had a map of the City stretched on the wall and a junior officer was marking, in yellow ink, the location of each reported trouble spot. Among the men waiting to give more reports he saw a face he recognised and he called the man out of the crowd.
‘Report,’ he ordered.
The man went to the map and pointed. Beslow peered closer. Near the harbour, the Oyster District.
‘We saw three there sir. All looked the same. More or less. They’d killed a dozen or more dock workers and fishers.’
‘What did they look like?’ Beslow was aware of the sudden hush behind him as the other men waited to hear this guard’s account.
‘’Bout twice as high as a man, walking on two strange legs – the knees seemed to bend backwards. Two arms but sort of split at the wrist so there were two definite hand things on each arm, one was bladed. Heads looked too big. Three sided kind of shape with a great beak rather than nose and mouth. Lots of teeth. Three eyes, middle one bigger than the others.’ The man swallowed. ‘It was their speed sir. Never seen anything move that fast.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Dark grey skin with cracks in it. Well, it looked like cracks. Don’t think it were scales. Short wiry tails with spikes near the end.’ The man frowned in concentration then shook his head. ‘That’s it sir. We were on the roof of a warehouse. They didn’t see us and then they raced off towards the first fish market.’
Beslow turned to study the rest of the men in the room and squeezed against the open door.
‘Has anyone seen any weapons used effectively against any of these things?’
Several voices were raised and the General pointed at an older man, close to the door.
‘Seen arrows used sir. Slid off ’em as if they was made of stone.’
Another man nodded. ‘Our unit had two crossbowmen sir. Bolts hit the things but then just dropped to the ground. No sign of injuring ’em sir, but we didn’t hang around to look too close.’
Beslow nodded and looked again at the map. The yellow ink was gradually forming a pattern which made a growing half circle approaching the Citadel. He pointed at a man by the door.
‘Go and check how much liquid fire is held – the infirmary officers will know.’
Several heads nodded as the man hurried away. Liquid fire had been used, rarely it was true, against the fortified walls of the main towns in the Confederacy’s satellite states. And used to great effect. General Beslow desperately hoped that there was a very generous supply of the stuff stored within the Citadel.
There had been uproar when Hag arrived in the Bear village and told them her news. She perched next to Gossamer Tewk while Jemin and the Kelshans argued bitterly over what course of action should now be taken. Whilk saw no reason to change their plans – to open a gateway inside the Citadel and go straight for the Imperatrix. Jemin was just as vehement that they should at least try to assist the ordinary citizens who found their streets infested with such horrors as Hag described. The Bear, Cyrek and Daylith listened in silence as the arguments raged. Hag watched in delight, cackling quietly to herself. Eventually, bored, the glittering eyes fixed on Gossamer Tewk.
‘I spoke to Snail. She is at your house,’ she said.
‘Is she? Is she all right? And what about poor old Drengle?’
Shea and Tika, sitting alongside Gossamer listened; they too were bored with the men’s circular argument.
Hag’s voice took on a purring note. ‘I told the ghosts to protect the house. I liked Snail.’
Shea and Tika exchanged a startled glance, both at Hag’s tone and her words.
‘Snail is a very pleasant woman,’ Gossamer agreed. ‘What about Drengle though?’
Hag chortled. ‘He’s scared out of his few wits.’
‘Well that’s normal. But will he be safe there too? He’s not very bright, but I’m fond of him in a way.’ Gossamer considered what she’d just said. ‘Fond like you get fond of an old pair of shoes if you see what I mean.’
Hag half raised her wings, her beak gaping. ‘Those creeping things can’t trace him, it’s only living blood they sense. He won’t be found and the ghosts will shield the house to conceal dear Snail.’
Hag hopped down from the arm of the chair on which she’d perched and made for the door, which was closed. Shea managed to reach it in time to open it properly for the great raven. Hag shrieked, making everyone jump.
‘Nice manners are always appreciated child.’
‘I wonder where she’s gone now?’ Tika was saying when Shea rejoined them.
‘Did you hear the way she spoke of Snail?’ Shea asked. ‘I think she’s lonely.’
Tika and Gossamer simply stared at the girl who stared back defensively.
‘Well, I think she is.’
Tika remembered Hag suggesting that they might be friends. Apparently she had said much the same to Farn too. Could that be a way to win some sort of influence over the dreadful powers she knew Hag possessed? Before she could follow that line of thought, she was distracted by the silence. The men had ceased arguing it seemed. Judging by Emas’s expression, it was not before time. Jemin looked around the den.
‘We will go to Gossamer’s house and assess the situation from there,’ he announced. ‘I ask Lord Cyrek to stay with Tika at all times, while Lord Daylith accompanies me.’
Cyrek and Daylith both nodded agreement to this request.
‘I would like to be there at tomorrow’s dawn. I would prefer to go at once, but until it is clearer what the situation is with these creatures Hag has described, I feel daylight is preferable.’
The room began to empty and Tika, Shea and Gossamer walked together out onto the verandah. The night air was chilly, still had a hint of snow in it as it gusted between the houses. Sta
rs sparkled high above the dark mountains, although there was no moonlight tonight. Tika touched Shea’s back lightly.
‘You don’t have to come with us this time you know.’
Shea looked into Tika’s strange eyes which gleamed faintly in the starlight.
‘Yes, I do,’ she replied in a matter of fact way.
Tika nodded and spoke to Gossamer. ‘And you Gossamer, will you stay in Kelshan if things go as we hope?’
Gossamer moved to the edge of the verandah before she answered, her back to Tika and Shea.
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so, not yet.’ She squared her narrow shoulders and turned to face them.
‘Jemin said I could learn about pictures in Karmazen. I think I’d like to do that for a while. But I feel responsible for Drengle, and I’m not sure he’d feel comfortable here.’
‘From what you’ve told us of him, I’m quite sure he’d feel welcome and settle in well here.’ Lemos moved out of the shadows. ‘Give him a chance Gossamer.’ He smiled. ‘We can always send him back.’
Shea giggled. ‘He probably wouldn’t even notice.’
‘Will you stay here tomorrow?’ Tika asked Lemos.
‘My place is beside The Bear in this instance,’ the mage replied softly. ‘But at least Essa and Menagol are to stay to comfort Emas.’
‘I thought Essa was to be with us?’ Gossamer asked with some surprise.
‘The Bear’s size might be a problem but two or three such very large people could prove alarming if we are among the ordinary citizens. So says Daylith, and Jemin agrees. The twins remain.’
Lemos went down the steps from the verandah. ‘Sleep well.’
They watched him out of sight. The village was quiet, families snugly tucked away in their sturdy houses.
‘I’m looking forward to tomorrow, in an odd kind of way.’
Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Page 36
