by T. E. Hodden
Maysan waved for me to answer.
I looked over at her, and gave her a flushed smile. “Sorry, I was a world away.”
“I have met a guy,” Emily said.
“You have?” I asked.
“His name is Jason, the accountant?” She toyed with her tee shirt.
“Oh. Yes.” I smiled.
“It's going okay. Kind of.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I have almost asked him out.”
“Kind of?” I smiled. “Almost?”
“To a dinner party,” she confessed. “So, kind of a date if he wants it to be, but, you know, if he doesn't it is more of a social event with my friends. Which is where you come in. You have to come, and you have to bring Her Nibs.”
“Her Nibs?”
“The public school girl, with the toffee nose and expensive accent,” Emily giggled. “You know, the girl you have been bringing back here these last few weeks.”
Maysan covered her face to hide her laughter.
“Corvus,” I said.
“Your girlfriend?” Emily asked.
Maysan choked on her laugh.
“No.” I could feel the word straining. “No. It's nothing like that. It's a work thing, and...complicated.”
“Wow.” Her eyebrows arched, and she gave me a bright smile. “That sounds like it is going to make some interesting conversation. Now you have to bring her!”
I felt a shudder on my spine, and a flutter of worries in my heart.
Tell her 'Yes'.
“I can ask,” I said. “I am sure we would love to. Who else is going?”
“Just some friends.” Emily shuffled back a step. “You are sure?”
“I would love to.”
“Good!” Emily mimed marking a tick. “I will cook, you can bring wine, it will be a laugh.”
I watched her go.
Ah. This should be interesting.
Thrice Dead Men (Part One)
I ran across the park, through dew soaked grass and morning mist, my heart thundering in my chest. Corvus was already ahead of me, her tail of hair and long coat flapping behind her, as she closed on the horse sized scorpion.
It was running a lot quicker than I expected.
The scorpion turned and reared up. Claws and a tail snapped at Corvus. She parried them away with her sword, deftly bobbing and weaving away from the creature's attacks. I caught up with her and snared the tail in a rope. The sting was not normally fatal, but it was hardly a pleasant experience, and left you in swollen agony for the longest few days of your life. I hauled on the rope, keeping the creature from attacking Corvus.
I tossed her the other spool of rope. “Corvus, loop it over the horns on the head.”
“I know!” She barked.
Corvus took the rope and edged closer to the creature. It dropped down onto its armoured feet, and sprinted off. The rope went taut, and I gave a shout as I was pulled over and dragged through the wet grass. I kicked at the ground, trying to dig my heels in against the scorpion. It did not want to be slowed.
Corvus sprinted past me, and lashed out with her rope again. This time it caught the horns above the head of the scorpion. She hauled on the rope, catching it against a tree, anchoring the creature. I found my feet, and got a better grip on the tail.
Corvus whipped at her rope, tugging the scorpion off balance. She released the rope from the tree and ran at the scorpion. She ducked under one snapping claw, dodged the next, and vaulted onto the back of the scorpion. For a moment it reared up, and bucked, but she clung on, digging her fingers between the armoured plates of the shell.
At last the scorpion dropped to its feet, and stopped resisting. She stroked the hairy armour of the shell, whispering softly to the beast, as she fastened the rope around the feeders. It took me a moment to see the shimmer of enchantment around the rope, as it glowed like gold.
“There we are!” She hopped down and petted the monster. “Shall we get you home?”
I brushed down my dank clothes. “Are you okay?”
“He was a wild one!” Corvus laughed, brightly. “But he will behave now, at least long enough to get him home.”
“If anybody asks,” I said, leading the way, “We are making a television special.”
Corvus shrugged, and gave me a smile that did not suggest understanding.
*
Franja watched us dragging the scorpion to the river. She put aside her books and hopped up to her feet. She gave me a smile that was a school girl left alone in a sweet shop.
“Well, that is interesting...” She whistled at the scorpion and petted it. “I would rather have books. Where did he come from?”
“It did not pass this way?” Corvus asked, with a worried frown.
“I would have mentioned it.” Franja spun on her toes. She became a stout, matronly, woman in a leather gilet and plaid skirts. She rubbed her hands together. “He is from the Slate Marshes, and he did not pass this way to enter London, but I can send him home.” She pulled the ropes from the scorpion, and slapped the pincers, sending him scuttling away down the tunnel. The shadows consumed him. She shouted after him. “Go on home! Go!”
“Thank you Franja.” I offered her a smile, and took a couple of books in a plastic bag from my pocket.
She became her child like self, and snatched the bag away, eager to inspect her spoils.
“Do you have any idea where he might have come from?” I asked.
“Other ways here from the Slate Marsh?” Franja screwed up her face. “I don't know of any other paths, but I would urge you to find it, before anything bigger and more dangerous finds its way to London.”
That advice left me feeling uneasy.
“What else lives in the Slate Marshes?” I asked.
“Eels the size of tigers, that eat men,” Corvus said. “Killer reptiles the size of a bull.”
“Swarms of poison scarabs,” Franja added, “And flesh eating wasps.”
“Husks, and zombies...” Corvus tapped her lips. “All sorts of interesting things.”
“I get the idea.” I dug my hands into my pockets. “We need to find the Portal.”
“How do we do that?” Corvus asked. “London is huge, and we don't know how long the scorpion was in the sewers before it surfaced. It could have entered our realm anywhere.”
“Well, not quite anywhere,” I said, my heart growing heavy. “The Loom is near the surface in London, but there are only certain places that a portal could bleed open without us noticing.”
“And those places are watched,” Franja said, smiling. “They would not go unnoticed by my sister.”
“Will you ask her?” I asked evenly.
Franja nodded.
“At what price?” I asked.
“Asking?” Franja smiled. “You always show me kindness, I will ask no price to ask, but... Cylder may demand a price for her answers.”
Franja stepped down to the edge of the water, and put her hand beneath the surface. Her eyes closed, and serene expression melted across her face as she breathed deeply. The tunnel filled with many more echoes than normal.
Franja opened her eyes, and looked at me, wearing the smile of a cat who had cornered a mouse.
“She will tell you of the portal,” Franja said, “If you see her person.”
“That is the price?” I asked.
Franja nodded. “You have to play the game of chance.”
“A game of chance?” Corvus stroked her chin. “Like cards? Or dice?”
No. Maysan crept into our minds. Not like that my dear.
“Oh.” Corvus looked worried. “What are the stakes?”
There is a chance that if he goes to see the beautiful Cylder, he may not come back. Her hand rested on my shoulder. The dangers are terrible, but I can not ask you do this.
“Will you stop me?” I asked.
No. Maysan conceded.
“Right then.” I shrugged off my overcoat and handed it to Corvus. I passed my knife to Franja, for safe keeping. “I am unarmed,
and intend no ill.”
She smiled, nodded her understanding, and gestured for me to lay in the water.
I closed my eyes and lay back in the icy flow of the river. A bare foot pressed delicately on my chest, and pushed me downwards, forcing the air from my lungs. Water rushed up my nose, bitter on my tongue as it filled my mouth, then burned in my lungs. Instincts overrode my thoughts and I thrashed, gagging, and choking, as my heart stopped.
I opened my eyes in a world of candy colours and golden light.
Cylder's living room was decorated in a style that was akin to the Regency style, but with the colours dialled up like neon lights. The leather bound books, oak furniture, water colours and printed wall paper were all ablaze in colour. The sofas, chairs, and drapes were the richest wine red I could imagine. The floor, ceiling, and windows were all the exposed chalk and limestone of her cave. The living room was one corner in a natural subterranean cathedral.
Cylder herself was dressed in a canary yellow dress, with a pattern of poppies, lots of decorative lace. Her halo of rusting brown hair was woven with flowers and ribbons. Her features were soft and rounded, her cheeks speckled with freckles, and her smile three sizes too big. Her eyes were all the colours of sunset.
She smiled brightly and helped me sit up. She brushed my hair from my eyes.
“My Lady.” I cleared my throat. The air tasted of rose water. “I am sorry to have to intrude.”
“Not at all.” She gestured to one of the chairs. “You are most welcome. It has been too long since we have had a need to see each other, and if I am honest, I am happy some circumstance has brought you to me. You will forgive me if I make the most of our few moments?”
“I am sorry a few moments is all I can offer.” I looked away.
“Robert!” She touched the dressing over my nose. “What on Earth have you done to yourself?”
“I am rather afraid I have been busy,” I admitted. “And it has taken its toll.”
“So I see.” She frowned. “The bone is set, but it will scar. It is a shame. I liked your nose as it was.” Her smile returned. “Was it at least exciting? A story you can tell me?”
“Another time, perhaps,” I whispered, knowing that was not entirely fair.
“When was the last time you slept?” She demanded. “Your thoughts are all jumbled and messy.”
“It has been some time.”
“I am sorry,” she gave me a sad look. “Meditation helps, but we all have to dream, Robert. You do understand this?”
“Yes My-”
She gave me a chiding look. “Do not be so formal, or I will begin to wonder if we are truly friends.”
“I hope you think of me as one,” I admitted. “I hope I have earned at least some measure of trust from your sisters and yourself.”
She sat beside me on the sofa. “Will you call me Cylder?”
“Yes.” I flushed. “I am only sorry I am the kind of friend who only ever visits when I need something.”
“I can hardly blame you!” She laughed. “How could I call you a friend knowing the chance you take just to see me?” She put her hand on mine. “I am just surprised you have not demanded I search for the bleed as soon as you arrived!”
I shook my head. “That would hardly be right.”
“I did not feel it until you asked,” Cylder whispered. “I fear it was as subtle as an assassin's blade, slipping in so gently as to bleed me in my sleep. When you asked my sister, I looked, and there it was...” She cast a hand to the air, and a mist of light and vapours formed in the open floor, swirling to become an image of a tunnel. “In a service tunnel, between the sewers and the Underground, one of the forgotten little corners of London. A Portal to the Slate Marsh.”
“It was a deliberate portal?” I asked. “Not an accidental bleed?”
“Oh, it was deliberate, as was the subterfuge to hide it. I worry about what that implies.”
I fixed the location in my mind. “Thank you.” I paused. “Are you sure there is nothing I should offer in return?”
“Your time with me is enough...” She paused, and chuckled. “Ah, but perhaps that is what I can ask. Would you like to spend more time with me?”
“I would.” The answer was honest, and slipped from me so quickly I had not been sure of it, until it was already spoken. “If I could.”
“If I were willing to risk your life,” she agreed. Her smile brightened. “Or if there was another way.”
“Yes.”
“Dream of me.” She squeezed my hand. “That is my price. You must dream of me, in payment for this boon.”
I bowed my head. “My next dream is yours.”
She held out her hand, and blew stardust from her palm over my face. It felt like a mist of warm water. She followed it with a kiss to my forehead. “I trust you to not get yourself killed before you have a chance to pay your debt.”
“I will do my best,” I promised.
The world pulsed around me, and for a second, the living room was gone, and there was no colour in the cave, just chalk and stone in shades of grey. A heartbeat later it was back and vibrant as ever.
“I am sorry,” I said, wincing.
“No. You have been gone from your body long enough. You have to go home.” She clung to my hand. “Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes.
There was pain in my lungs, and white noise in my head. I sat up from the water choking, and gagging, throwing up water. Corvus was beside me, her arms around me.
“Breathe!” She barked. “Come on!”
“I'm okay,” I croaked.
“Your heart and lungs stopped!” Corvus hit me. “Earthworms need those!”
“For a moment, he was between life and death,” Franja said, evenly. “He took his chance, and he lived. He would not have truly died, unless Chance was against him.”
“It's okay, Corvus,” I cupped her chin, and looked into her eyes. “I'm fine. It looks scary, and it is a long way short of comfortable, but I am fine.”
“You are sure?” Her voice softened.
“Yes.” I gave her the best smile I could. “Cylder was kind enough to help us.”
Corvus nodded. “So... where are we going?”
*
The service tunnel was old, forgotten, and half flooded. We waded through shin deep water with a skin of litter, illuminated by the flames on my knife.
“Well, there it is...” Corvus nodded to the impossible pool of sunlight at the end of the tunnel. She paused, and gave me a considering look. “Are you sure you are okay?”
“My nose is taking a while to heal,” I confessed.
“You know what I mean!” She put her hands on her hips.
“I'm fine.” I stopped and faced her. “You don't have to worry about me.”
“I'm as surprised as you are that I do.” She rolled her eyes. “It turns out you are tolerable.”
“Tolerable?” I asked.
She grinned. “You are keeping my exile interesting. Are you ready?”
I nodded, and took a step into the portal.
The Slate Marsh was a tropical swampland. The air was rich and peaty. A swollen sun beat down on marsh and swampland. I found myself on a small island, dappled by the shade of fruit trees. Corvus was at my side. She inspected a tree. There were hundreds of bone spikes and needles embedded in the bark. They had torn the trunk to splinters.
“What do you make of this?” She asked.
I plucked one out and rubbed it between my fingers. “Bio-engineered? Something grew this, as a weapon.” I held it to the light, and saw the channels on the outside of the needle. “I think it carried a toxin.”
She sniffed it. “Yes, but not one I am familiar with.”
I looked down at the water, there was something left in the marsh water for the animals. It had blonde hair, a silver watch, and a modern blue suit. “Well, I would be surprised if this chap wasn't from Earth.”
I rolled the body over. There was no wallet or phone. He had
been killed by a single bone needle to the back of his head.
“Curious,” Corvus whispered. “I wonder who he upset, to be murdered and left in an alien world. It seems somewhat unlikely he stumbled on this by accident.”
I lifted open his jaw. “The teeth are gone.” I checked the hand. “And his fingertips are burnt, meaning no fingerprints.”
“That is significant?”
“It makes it very difficult to identify him. If you were lucky you could run a DNA trace, but that would take weeks. The more interesting point is that these measures were taken here, where it would be unlikely that anybody with access to dental records or fingerprints would find him.”
“Except us.” Corvus touched her head behind her ear. “May?”
Yes. Maysan lingered on the edge of my vision. This suggests an attack directly against us.
“You don't sound surprised,” I noted.
Somebody arranged the Kyllan's escape, and sent him to find you. Maysan toyed with her veil, and turned to Corvus. It stands to reason that the same enemy, whomever they may be, would prepare another weapon.
“Why us?” Corvus scowled.
You are Emberleaf. You are of the Court. Somebody wishes to divide us.
“I know,” Corvus shook her head. “I mean, why the illegitimate bastard abandoned on a back water world, or the knight so bad at her duties she was left to guard the Archive? Would the Court really be torn apart if something happened to either of us?”
You must look out for each other. Maysan spoke firmly. Look at me Robert.
I turned to face her. She was blurred and out of focus, a distortion in the air, her veil shifting like mist. It hurt my eyes to try and look too closely.
You will not let each other out of your sight, Maysan instructed us. You will have a quiet day, safe at home, and you will not investigate this. I will unravel this mess, and you will face nothing more dangerous than the dinner party, until you have heard from me. Is that understood?
I was torn. I could see Corvus was feeling the same. Her jaw set to stop her speaking her mind.
“But, what if-” I began.
No! Maysan was resolute. Your only priority, until you hear otherwise, is protecting your sister.
“He is not-” Corvus began.
