Uncanny Kingdom: An Eleven Book Urban Fantasy Collection (Uncanny Kingdom Omnibus 1)

by David Bussell

No response.

  Hand trembling, I reached out to the figure, took hold of the blanket and whipped it away. The material was damp.

  Still the figure didn’t stand, didn’t move.

  I reached out again, took hold of the person’s shoulder, tried to turn them-

  ‘Mr. Trick, I’m here. Here to end—’

  —The figure twisted round, thrusting up to his feet, face rushing towards mine, teeth bared, eyes crazy—

  I screamed and fell back to the floor, my mind refusing to believe what my eyes were seeing.

  He stepped towards me as I pushed myself away across the floor—

  ‘No-no-no—’

  He leapt over me, grabbed me by the collar, laughing and pushing his face towards mine.

  It was a leering, mad face, with wild eyes and a rictus grin.

  And it was a face I recognised.

  It was David.

  28

  Somehow I wriggled free and half staggered, half fell, past the animal skin door and back out onto the dirt path that lead through the forest of London.

  I stood to see the numerous mother and son copies emerging from the surrounding tree line and applauding wildly as David stepped out of the wooden hut; he then bowed and threw out kisses.

  ‘David, how are you… I don’t—’

  This was a lie.

  Another lie, that’s all, that’s all, that’s all.

  ‘Hello, Stella.’

  The world tilted.

  It couldn’t be true.

  That voice.

  Two words, two different voices.

  ‘My name is Mr. Trick, and I’m here to tear your city down.’

  The unseen beasts of the forest stamped their feet and the trees shook and the ground trembled.

  ‘Listen to them, Stella.’

  This was just another trick, that’s all. Like the witches, my masters—a lie inside a paper coven. I just had to sniff out the lie again, find the mistake, and then all of this would warp and crumble, and the snake would slither out to be stamped upon.

  ‘You’re a lie. You’re not Mr. Trick. You’re just another puppet. Another playing piece.’

  ‘Oh no, I can see why you would think that, but I’m afraid this really is the final act. Even the best of games has to end eventually, and this is where I take my trophy.’

  The mothers and the sons clapped and cheered wildly, before being silenced with a gesture from David. From Mr. Trick.

  ‘I saw you die.’

  ‘Oh, even eyes can betray. Sad.’

  I felt the fire in my hand and threw my arm out, unleashing the magic. It hurtled towards David, who made no attempt to jump out of the way. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, and the ball of furious power stopped. It hung in the air, rippling with energy.

  ‘And I thought we were friends. To think I let you stay in my home when you were hurt.’

  ‘That was David, you’re not him.’

  He sighed and the ball of magic lurched towards me. I did my best to jump out of the way, but felt it hit my legs, turning and twisting me in the air, making my skin burn. I landed in a painful heap, limbs twisted.

  ‘With you this whole time. What a nasty trick of me to play,’ said David.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why not? Why should I let my devil dogs eat you up straight away when there was so much more to be had from you. To watch you yell and run and search for clues like a good little Familiar. All the while with me at your side. You can be a brutal thing at times, can’t you?’

  Could it really be true? I remembered my confusion when I opened my eyes to find myself in his house. I’d been moments from death as one of Mr. Trick’s devil dogs lunged for me, too flustered to string an incantation together, and then all of a sudden I was somewhere else. A nice, safe house, miles from where I had been, with a stranger looking down at me.

  With David looking down at me.

  Mr. Trick.

  ‘I think she’s putting it together. Finding the pieces slot neatly.’

  The mothers and sons cheered once, high and sharp.

  I realised with certainty that I’d entered another world, a mad world, and the last thing I wanted was to die there. I turned and ran, the people that lined the path laughing and pointing.

  ‘Where are you going, Stella? The end is the end is the end,’ called David. ‘When Mr. Trick comes to town, all the Uncanny will fall and frown.’

  A bend in the path, and David—Mr. Trick—was stood in front of me. I pulled up short and darted into the forest, batting aside tree branches that fought to slow me down. This was a mistake. This whole thing. Trying to face Mr. Trick, and now running off the path. Nothing good came from running into a forest full of monsters.

  ‘Stella. Stop. It’s over. Now lie down in the dirt like the filthy Uncanny you are and wait for the heel of my boot to grind against your eyes.’

  There was no time for a pithy reply—a defiant reply—all there was time for was running and fear. A real, primal fear. Mr. Trick, this place, this past London, it was like it had found the primitive part of my psyche and was jabbing it like hot pokers. In all my decades of life, I couldn’t remember ever feeling such blind fear. The kind of fear I imagined a child might feel as it lay hot under the blanket in bed, trying to ignore the thing inside the wardrobe.

  I stopped to catch my breath. Where the hell was I running to? Was there even a way out? Was there a way back to London proper, or was I just sprinting further and further into Mr. Trick’s nightmare world?

  A scream.

  No, hundreds of screams.

  Human, but not right, more animalistic, hungry.

  I turned to see all of the mothers and sons, their faces masks of fury, mouths wide, teeth bared, running through the trees towards me.

  No time for magic, for spells, I couldn’t even think straight to put the right incantation together.

  All I could do was run.

  I heard them behind me, desperate to feel me in their hands, under their feet, between their teeth. They wanted to rip me apart, I knew it. I looked over my shoulder, they were falling over each other in their desperation to get to me; to get to me first. The looks in their eyes… I’d never seen anything like it. Anything so… dark.

  I yelled as I ran straight into something and bounced back, landing painfully on the forest floor. No time for pain, for stopping. I hopped up into a crouch, dimly aware of the sharp complaint of my ankle and prepared for the first wave of mothers and sons to pile onto me—

  —but they were gone.

  I couldn’t see them, couldn’t hear them. The only sounds now were those of my own heavy breaths.

  I wasn’t going to get out of this. I couldn’t run from him. Couldn’t step out of old London and run back to my coven and lock the door. What happened to my witches was proof enough that no one and nowhere was safe from this thing. Sooner or later he was going to track me down.

  I didn’t want to die.

  I especially didn’t want to die at this monster’s hands.

  This twisted bastard.

  But I was out of options and tired of running.

  Well, I refused to run another step. Refused to give the beast that satisfaction.

  So I sat. I lowered myself to the forest floor and crossed my legs.

  All around me, always out of view, I could feel great, ancient creatures moving through the forest. Ancient fears made flesh that lived in this place.

  ‘They are beautiful,’ said Mr. Trick, stepping out of the shadows and sitting opposite me.

  ‘Give David back.’

  Mr. Trick arched one of David’s eyebrows.

  ‘I know he isn’t you. I feel it. You’re just a thing, hijacking his body. You’ve crawled inside him and used him.’

  ‘But he’s so warm and comfortable,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I think I may stay in here for a while, holding onto his spark. His soul. Squeezing it between my hands so it squirms and screams.’

  ‘You’re trying to make me angry
. Make me frightened. I think I’m done with that.’

  He nodded and reached forward, taking my hand in his. I tried to pull away, but found I couldn’t. Without a word, he broke my little finger. The snap rang out like a rifle shot. He let my injured hand go and I clung to it, trying not to scream.

  ‘You don’t make the rules, Familiar. I am the dark. The terror. I am what frightens the Uncanny. I will make you feel any way I wish. And then, well, then I will devour you. Take your spark and store it inside of me, next to all the others. Next to your poor, poor witches. They’re in me now, thrashing around. It tickles.’ He licked his lips.

  ‘Talk all you want,’ I said through gritted teeth, the pain in my hand sharp.

  ‘Sticks and stones, hey?’

  I didn’t respond. Part of me was screaming to get up and run again, but sod that.

  ‘If you’re going to kill me, come and have at it. I won’t go easy.’

  ‘Isn’t she brave?’

  The monsters in the forest roared in approval.

  ‘Well, perhaps I can break you yet, before I swallow you down...’

  I shivered despite myself, wondering what he meant. More broken bones? I could take it. Would have to.

  ‘Here,’ said Mr. Trick, ‘Let me show you something to make you scream…’ He reached out his hands and grasped me by the temples and…

  ...I…

  ...I could see…

  ...I was a fragment and…

  ...Don’t let...

  ...I was lost, lost, lost, and...

  The fog cleared and I was stood in a familiar place. The blind alley that lead to the London Coven.

  ‘What is this?’ I asked, but my words were silent.

  The door to the coven opened and I saw myself step out.

  A dark shape rushed past me, towards my other self.

  I tried to shout out to warn her, to warn me, but couldn’t.

  The shadow became a person of sorts, and it whispered in the other me’s ear. And then I realised when I was.

  I saw myself turn to the door of the coven and watched as my hands swept over and over again, forming ancient patterns as I spoke secret words under my breath.

  No…

  Oh God…

  I couldn’t have!

  The other me stopped and turned away from the coven, walked down the alley, walked past me and turned out of sight. I looked back to the shadow figure and watched it push the door open and step inside.

  It was my fault.

  All those protection spells. Layers upon layers of magical protection that nothing could ever get through unscathed, and only four people knew how to take them down. My three witches and me.

  I’d let the fox into the hen house.

  Mr. Trick had done something to me, whispered some magic in my ear, and I’d unlocked the place for him. Allowed him to step into the most protected place in London and tear my witches into bloody, dead pieces.

  ‘No!’ My voice rang loud and high, suddenly audible again as I found myself back in the forest, curled up on my side, a child sobbing in the dirt.

  Mr. Trick looked down at me, smiling. ‘There’s that pain. That scream. That delicious anguish.’

  I wanted to believe it was a deception, but I knew that it wasn’t. Now I’d seen it, it was like a door had been unlocked in my mind. I could remember it happening now. The strange compulsion to remove the protection. The satisfied feeling I’d had as I walked away. The confusion as I stepped out of the blind alley, and the knowledge of what I had done disappearing. I’d turned on the spot, wondering if I’d forgotten to take something with me. I’d almost gone back to the coven to check for the thing I couldn’t remember, but shrugged it off and walked away.

  My fault. My fault. My fault.

  Just a stupid, weak Familiar. A weak spot that had been taken advantage of.

  And now all of London was going to pay. Maybe all of the UK. All of the Uncanny Kingdom.

  ‘What say you, Stella? A rum do and no mistake. Oh, I let them know you’d shown me the way in before I had my wicked, gruesome way with them. I think they were a little annoyed. Sorry.’

  ‘You bastard…’

  I stood and felt what magic I had surge through me, exploding from my outstretched hands towards Mr. Trick. It was no use. He swatted my best aside and stepped forward, grabbing me by the neck and hurling me against the nearest tree. My back hit hard and I fell to the ground, almost unable to breathe.

  ‘Would you like to see how I finished them off? The fun I had? Oh, I took my time.’

  ‘Please, don’t.’

  I felt his cold hands grasp my head again and—

  —I was in the main room in my coven. My witches, my brave masters, were giving everything they had, but the creature I’d let in was too strong. It brushed each spell aside. It was a mouse playing with its scampering food.

  They were bleeding, exhausted, terrified. I had never seen them scared before. It broke my heart.

  ‘Watch, Familiar. Watch me play.’

  ‘That’s enough. Please, I don’t want to see…’

  I tried to close my eyes, tried to turn my head away as the dark figure rampaged through the coven, tearing flesh, opening wounds at will, but I could feel Mr. Trick’s hands on me, holding my eyes open, keeping my head still.

  ‘Watch me play, Stella. It’s so, so beautiful.’

  The attack was not fast. He blocked any chance of escape and took his time to break them down. To give them hope that they could turn the tables, then smack them down again. Near the end, the witches of London struggled to meet each other. Dragged their shattered bodies across the floor, leaving trails of dark blood behind them. I could see it in their eyes now, the certainty that this was it. They’d done what they could and it was all about to be over. I felt the tears rushing from my eyes, soaking my cheeks.

  ‘Aw, it’s almost over. Still, we can watch it again, and again, and again…’

  ‘Please. Please don’t show me...’

  I wanted to die. For him just to kill me at last and have it all be over.

  But then—

  Oh!

  Then I saw something. Something wonderful.

  As the dark shape approached them, my witches held hands and did not fight, did not run. Instead I saw their lips move as one, saying the same words. Words I recognised. Casting a spell only my witches could have created, and only when working together as one.

  I began to laugh.

  ‘Stop.’

  I was hysterical now, great gales of laughter that hurt my stomach.

  ‘Stop it!’ said Mr. Trick.

  The coven whipped away like a cloth being yanked from a table and I was back in the forest. Mr. Trick had rocked back on his heels, confused.

  ‘Is this madness? Have I broken you so easily?’

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s just, you’re making a habit of this.’

  ‘Of what?’ He studied my face, my smile. ‘Making a habit of what!’

  ‘Well, first you let me live when you really should have taken care of me right away. You don’t let a loose end run around. Then there was the lack of smell in the pretend coven earlier. Not a details person, are you Mr. Trick? A little too arrogant for that. Too sure of yourself. But this one? This one is a big boo-boo.’

  ‘What? Tell me!’ His voice roared out, the trees shaking, my hair blowing back, but I didn’t shield myself from it. I walked forward, walked towards Mr. Trick. Now I saw fear in his eyes.

  ‘Don’t you see? They left the door open for me to walk in.’

  ‘Your witches? They are dead. Dead! I killed them, tore them apart, left them as nothing more than meat rags on the floor! I swallowed them down, ate their spark! I did that! Me, me, me!’

  ‘Yes, but not before they left me a gift; and thank you for letting me see it, because otherwise I probably wouldn’t have noticed.’

  Mr. Trick blinked slowly.

  ‘What did they do? Tell me what they did.’

  I smiled. />
  ‘It’s something my masters created, called the Achilles Curse.’

  His lips twitched.

  ‘No. No, no, no... that’s not.... not possible.’

  ‘A weak spot. A chink in your armour. Know where it is and even a two-year-old sorcerer could take you down.’

  Mr. Trick backed away. ‘Where is it? Where?’

  ‘Now, those who cast the spell can’t take advantage of it. Magic has rules, it can be a right bitch like that. But me? I can use it. They left it for me. One last job to take care of for them.’

  Mr. Trick screamed and raised his hands, ready to throw everything he had at me.

  ‘Hush,’ I said. He froze, unable to cast the spell that would surely have killed me.

  I slowly walked towards him, savouring his terror.

  ‘Now it’s you that can feel fear. That can know what it’s like to beg for your life. I feel you struggling against me, but it’s no good. There’s no point. I know where your weak spot is, and I’m focussing my magic on it. You can’t stop me.’

  ‘You think you can put an end to me? You think I can just be—’

  ‘Oh, please shut up. I’m going to kill you now. For my witches, and for David. Goodbye and fuck you.’

  I placed the right words together and a flaming sword appeared in my hand—

  ‘No!’

  ‘Oh, fucking, yes—’

  I thrust the sword into Mr. Trick’s chest and he screamed, his mouth growing ever larger until I thought his head was going to split in two. Magic erupted from him in great flaming torrents, forcing me to stagger back.

  He shook violently, like he was having a fit, and shapes began to burst from him, tearing his flesh open to escape and circle around us. They were the sparks he’d taken, the souls he’d eaten. It was clear he’d feasted often and for many years, and I knew my witches must be up there among them somewhere.

  ‘I did it,’ I said. I hoped they could hear me.

  Mr. Trick’s body fell to the ground and something dark and wet began to crawl out of him. Began to crawl out of David. This was Mr. Trick’s true form. His true body. Dragging itself out of David’s corpse.

  It looked drained and withered, foul black goo dripped from it. I wondered what it had been, how it had become such a horrific creature. It looked up to me, its face smooth and featureless apart from two giant, yellow eyes that met mine, imploring.