The Song of the Underground
Page 30
“Thank God.”
He laughed. “Yeah, amen to that.”
“Well, if you’re going, I’m coming with you.”
He shook his head. “Not with that little one you’re carrying. It’s too dangerous.
“Ben…”
He let go of her feet and stood up. “No arguments, Charlotte. You’re not going and that’s that.”
************
Charlie Croft was talking to Fische55 on Skype. He was staring at the picture of his internet buddy; a life size facial image of a gothic clown. “Isn’t it time we revealed our identities?”
“Whoa,” the voice said. “Oh, man, now you’ve done it. Now there’s no going back.”
Charlie laughed. “Tosser!”
Fische chuckled. “Now what’s put that notion into your head? We’re all right, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, course.”
“And you’ve got that new job, working for the friggin’ government.”
It was true. His sister Charlotte had made a proviso to accepting her own job from Alice Burton. She wanted to pay back Charlie for his help with the Sous Llyndum fiasco and she thought getting him a proper job was just what he needed. Charlie had turned it down at first. He told her he wasn’t that sort of guy. He needed his own space and he didn’t like to be told what to do. He was a free bird and being tied down to a desk job wasn’t for him. Charlotte had argued it wouldn’t be like that. She assured him he would retain his secret identity, but he would on occasions carry out undercover work on behalf of the Prime Minister. He would communicate only with the PM and her aide, Michael, and that he could keep everything pretty much the same, as long as he remained incognito and he didn’t go up against the British government or any bodies closely associated with them.
Charlie had agreed. He felt motivated by the monetary reward.
As for Fische55, he didn’t know why he wanted to see him. He was just feeling…well curious, that was all.
“Look, Charlie mate, are you serious?” Fische asked.
“Yeah, man. Why not?”
“Well. It would beat looking at that friggin’ skeleton fish picture of yours.”
“Don’t ya like it?”
“Bastard!”
Charlie chuckled. Yes, he thought, maybe it was time. “Come on then, let’s do it.”
“You go first.”
“Why me? Why can’t you…”
“It was your idea.”
“Let’s do it at the same time.”
“Tosser.”
Charlie grinned. “Okay. We’re switching to live…ready? Any minute…and…NOW!”
Charlie’s eyes widened. He sat back in his chair and put his arms behind his neck. He didn't know what to say.”
“Weren’t expecting that were ya?” Fische said.
Charlie shook his head. He was completely stunned. “Nope. I wasn’t expecting that. So what do I call you now?”
“Don’t be a bastard. Call me fische. Or would you prefer Fanny?”
“No…I’ll stick with Fische.”
Fische was grinning. She ran her fingers though her short spiky hair. She spoke in a higher tone now and her accent wasn’t so pronounced.
“Are you going to tell me you’re not American?”
“Nope. I am American, but I don’t live in New York.”
“Where then?”
“London.”
“No shit. You bast…I mean…why didn’t you tell me?”
“What and spoil my fun?”
Charlie laughed as he stared at her cute little pixie face. He coughed. “Where in London?”
Two floors above you, my friend. Number 55.”
**************
Byron the Bird Catcher knew her time was upon her. The devastation caused to their city had seen to that seven months earlier when the Jellalabad’s destructive forces had been laid bare.
Through the shimmering gauze drapes encircling her bed, a girl was pouring a cup of fresh water before she parted the curtain and held the cup to Byron’s mouth. It was cool and sweet on her parched lips. “Can I get you anything else, Bird Catcher?” The girl already knew Byron’s heart was aching. “They will come after the ceremony. They have promised.”
Byron shook her head. She squeezed her eyes closed as the familiar pain shot through her arm. “I know.” As the girl was about to withdraw, Bryon grabbed her wrist. “Tell them to hurry.”
When the door closed and she was once more alone, Byron reached up her hand and rested it across her body. The pain was subsiding. The girl had put something in her drink.
They knew she didn’t want their medicines. She could have died months ago if they had stopped keeping her alive with their potions. What was the point of hanging on, delaying the inevitable, prolonging her suffering of having to live another day?
She recalled that night when the American had stolen her princess away from Festival Hall. The king and Heron were just celebrating their success of chasing the Jellalabad out from the city, when Byron had rushed through the parting crowds in their wake. She’d followed them into the Forest of Birds and as they’d huddled beneath a canopy of leaves; she too had hidden from sight behind trailing vines so that she could witness Buzzard’s dastardly plan.
Wren was crying. “You shouldn’t have taken me away, Mark. My father will never forgive you.”
“Byron was never going to let me ask for your hand, Wren. She betrayed us.”
“No, Mark, that’s not true. The Bird Catcher loves me.”
“We must go, before they find us,”
“But, Mark, you don’t understand. I can’t leave here. I thought I could, but…this is my home. I could live in no other.”
“Wren…”
That’s when Barnes entered the Forest of Birds and placed himself behind a tree. He never saw Byron. No one did. Not even the man, Mason, when he too entered the forest as the explosion rocked the ground on which they’d stood.
From where she hid behind the curtain of vines, Byron watched the tree crush Barnes’ body and when he reached for his device to cause more destruction on their city, it had been Byron’s foot that had crushed his hand and it was her face that had looked down upon his broken body as if he was vermin.
That was when the boulder of rock crashed down from above, tearing her arm from her shoulder and making her heart stop. The pain of her heart pulling against her body took the wind from her lungs, and as she struggled for breath, she watched her princess stand up, safe from the havoc around them. It was then Byron had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.
She awoke after seven days of darkness. They had done everything they could as they pieced her back together and kept her body alive, but even at that moment, she knew it would not be for long. For when they told her of the death of her beloved Cannes, she wanted no more of that world underground.
Byron’s eyes shot open as a roar of the crowd blasted through the window of her bed-chamber. She turned her head to see the lights of the city flickering beyond the balcony. She pushed herself up on her able arm. She felt stronger. She moved her legs across the mattress and pulled away the sheet that covered her. Her feet on the cold stone floor felt as if they wouldn’t hold her weight, but she forced herself upright as she held onto the frame of the bed. She worked her way towards the window, almost stumbling until she found her balance again. Her white robes shone in the candle light as if she was already a ghost, and her hair hung down her back in cascading braids. She held herself aloft to take one more step onto the balcony. She slammed into the railings and fell to the floor, and through the gaps of the delicate wrought iron scrolls, and just before she succumbed to darkness and to the place where she would meet her love once more, she watched her princess walk through the crowds in a shimmering vision of white silk and lace.
**********
Mark Buzzard watched Wren walk towards him and his breath almost failed. She was exquisite, dressed in her mother’s wedding gown of white silk and lace. Her petite frame g
lided through the cheering crowd as her smile made her face glow in the vast candlelight.
“She’s all yours,” said the voice behind him. He turned and took one more glance at Ben and Charlotte, the only people there from upside. He nodded and stepped forward just as she reached his side. She took his arm as they both stood before the king, and as his voice announced the marriage of his daughter, the princess, to the stranger, Mark Buzzard, a roar went around the city as if a new day was born.
Wren turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck and as he leaned his face towards her, she stood on her toes, and they kissed.
A yell from the crowd made them all look towards the palace Atlantia as people gathered on a veranda around the body of the Bird Catcher.
A foreboding silence came upon the crowd until the king spoke once more.
“People of Sous Llyndum, hear me now.” The faces turned toward their king.
Mark held onto Wren’s small body as she sobbed in his arms. “Shush,” he whispered. “You know she is happy now.” He felt her nod as she pulled away and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
The king spoke. “The Bird Catcher is dead. As you know, she has freely elected her successor. It is not to my liking, but my respect for her makes me grant her dying wish. Time will tell if this one will be as dutiful as she.”
The crowds cheered. Most were content, even though some were not.
And as Mark Buzzard left Wren’s side and took his place next to the king, he wondered if his new role would work, as Byron said it would when she gave her princess's hand to the American from upside.
“Buzzard, the Bird Catcher,” the crowd cheered, and as he glanced at his bride standing beside his only two friends in the world, he hoped she was right.
The End
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Publication Date: January 9th 2014
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ISBN: 978-3-7309-7458-2
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Table of contents
Cover
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Part 2 - Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Part 4 - Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Part 5 - Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Epilogue
Imprint
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Part 2 - Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Part 4 - Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Part 5 - Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
&n
bsp; Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Epilogue
Imprint